


Heat and Chemistry

by DarkSideOfMe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (please trust; certain lines will not be crossed), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canada, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biochemistry, F/M, Gratuitous italics, I have no rights, It's not a comedy, Knotting, LGBTQ Themes, Making out like teenagers, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Oral Sex, Prison, STEM, Secondary Alphas, Sex, Slow Burn, Summer Heat spin off, The broken love triangle that shouldn't exist, University of Toronto, and it's too important to ignore, by a straight girl, epidemiology, farming, it's just turning out that way, the issue of non-consent will be raised, told via ABO allegory, under-tagged for dramatic effect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-10-20 06:52:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 96,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17617592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSideOfMe/pseuds/DarkSideOfMe
Summary: Kaydel has a secret: in a world that hates alphas, she loves them.And it shows; in her research, in her books... in her choice of online entertainment.But when her life takes a turn she has to decide how she will navigate the strange new world she finds herself in.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IshaRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IshaRen/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Summer Heat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605809) by [IshaRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IshaRen/pseuds/IshaRen). 



> This fic is:  
> \- part double major in biochemistry and epidemiology  
> \- part Shawshank Redemption  
> \- part Shakespearean tragedy  
> \- part 1984 (mild)  
> \- all slow burn a/b/o.  
>   
> This fic has some pretty dark tags, but if you can watch a typical R-rated movie you will probably be fine. Just in case there are trigger warnings noted throughout.  
>   
> A big thank-you everyone who left kudos and comments on the [original version of this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088890). Your encouragement made me want to keep doing this. And, of course, biggest thanks to Isha for accepting this and helping me shape things going forward; I hope you like the new stuff (I hope it's not too weird).
> 
> PS: If you don't already know, this fic is set in the same world as IshaRen's [Summer Heat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605809/chapters/26089497), taking place about a year or two after SH. I highly recommend you go and read that before continuing here. Cheers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...she had never publicly admitted what she really thought about alphas. ... 
> 
> Logically she knows that the man in front of her was one of the most pro-alpha rights individuals in the country. How could it hurt to tell him how she feels?

**March, Saturday, 5:53pm**

_It’s going to be a good day._

Kaydel clicks the print icon on her laptop twice. Her supervisor had finally approved the latest draft of her research paper, and tomorrow she’s going to submit it to the journal of _A/O Nature_ , the biggest scientific journal on alpha/omega biology.

Not that alpha research was a big field. It was hard to get funding when your research topic was considered burden on society. You could argue that understanding alpha biology had academic merit, but it wasn’t a popular field. Of course Kaydel wasn’t doing research for the attention.

_It’s going to be a good day._

Kaydel had been drawn to alphas since she was a little girl growing up in northern Ontario. She had once found a copy of _Grimms' Fairy Tales_ in her school library, an unaltered version where many of the characters were alphas and omegas. As a member of the school’s Library Club she had been able to smuggle it back to her house, and had kept it under her mattress for several months, taking it out at night to read. That is, until her mom found it and her dad had burned it in front of her. When she said liked the alphas in the stories he simply told her, “We don’t talk nice about alphas.” 

Then they made her confess where it came from, which triggered a massive scouring of the school library for other restricted content. They burned all that too, including a class set of _Never Cry Wolf_ , even though it didn’t contain any _human_ alpha/omega content. Kaydel had been kicked out of the Library Club and grounded for four weeks.

_It’s going to be a good day._

But her fascination with alphas never went away and now, many years later, she’s in the second year of her masters program in alpha studies at the University of Toronto. Of course, when she announced what program she was accepted to her parents stopped talking to her.

Kaydel clicks opens another window, and a graph with many different coloured dots opens up on her screen. She prints two copies of that and another file, and stuffs them all gently into her over-sized purse (which she had bought solely for its ability to hold eight-and-a-half by eleven pieces of paper). 

_It’s going to be a good day._

At least she hoped it was going to be a good day, because in less than an hour she would be having coffee with _Luke Skywalker_ , a man who had worked with young alphas for the last thirty years as headmaster of one of Canada’s only alpha schools. While he didn’t actively participate in research, everyone in the field knew him, or knew of him. And for whatever reason he wanted to talk to _her_ , about _her_ research paper.

Excited, Kaydel stands… 

...and reels… 

...and promptly sits back down as the edges of her vision start to go black. Yes, was going to be a good day, assuming she could make it to the coffee shop. Of course most of the day was already gone but it felt new to her; she had only dragged herself out of bed only an hour ago. She fumbles for the box of chicken broth sitting beside her and takes a few swigs before settling her head on her hands. If she could just drink the rest of the box, she’d probably feel a lot better.

She had come down with a really bad flu five days ago, and it had left her badly dehydrated. She had barely left her room during that time and early today she had seriously contemplated cancelling on Skywalker. But he was only in the city for a few days and you just _can't_ cancel when a legend of your field asks you for coffee. 

She checks her phone. Ten minutes. She could spare ten minutes to drink down the rest of the box before she had to leave.

Apparently this had all started at Leia Organa’s New Year’s Party. While the senator spent much of her time in Ottawa, she still maintained a permanent residence in Toronto, and every year she invited much of Toronto’s pro-alpha rights community to a bring in the New Year with her. Dr. Statura, Kaydel’s masters supervisor, had gone, and met up with Skywalker, who, as the senator’s brother, has been visiting over the holiday break. And at some point Statura and Skywalker had ended up chatting about Kaydel’s research paper …

… which led to Skywalker getting to see an advanced copy ...

... which led to Kaydel getting an email from Skywalker asking if she could meet him when he was next in town...

...which was going to be March break...

...which is now.

She drains the last of the broth and rests her head again for a moment. Her muscles still ache but her head doesn’t feel half so bad anymore. She thinks her pulse has slowed down a bit. 

_Time to move._

She stands again, slowly, and makes here way to the bathroom. She scrubs her face, re-ties her pigtail buns (because doing anything else with her hair at this point would be a disaster), brushes up her teeth and does her makeup. She hopes her clothes were okay; casual, but not too casual. She grabs her purse and heads to the front door.

Lusica, her always-dressed-in-black roommate, is drinking coffee and browsing on her laptop as Kaydel enters the common room. “Oh my fucking gods, you’re actually a functioning human being today.” 

“Yeah, just in time too,” she replies with a hesitant smile. Kaydel grabs her scarf and coat. She would have been in much worse shape if Lusica hadn’t thought to bring her food and water over the last few days, and...

“This is that coffee thing with the alpha school guy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Hope you don’t bite his head off too.”

 _And… shit._ Kaydel blushed. Apparently when she gets the flu she gets a little defensive about her personal space; she has hazy memories of repeatedly yelling “Get out of my fucking room!” every time Luscia tried to bring her food. 

Her mouth gapes, “Luce I’m-”.

“It’s fine, Kay.” There’s a big pause, the kind that says that no, it wasn’t really fine, but Lusica didn’t do touchy feely. Kaydel would just have to make it up somehow. Like baking. Or clubbing. Or both. 

Probably both.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Kaydel closes and locks the door and makes her way to the stairs. Their apartment is in an old converted house of College Street. The carpet is dingy and the paint is peeling, but the price was very good for being a five minute walk to campus. 

Kaydel and Lusica had met in first year and they had found that they just hung out well together. Kaydel liked how “cool” Lusica was. Not popular cool. Just laid back cool. Non-judgmental. Tolerant. And in return Lusica seemed to enjoy dragging Kaydel around Toronto’s club scene on the weekends. 

The both had started university in the Lifesciences stream, so most of their courses overlapped that first year. 

In second year Kaydel had gone into epidemiology whereas Lusica had gone into biochemistry, but they still had lots of the same basic science courses. 

And then in third year they got an apartment together and Kaydel convinced Lusica to take the alpha/omega biochem half-course with her. 

The a/o biochem class was quite small; only twenty or so students. It had covered, in excruciating detail, things like: pheromone synthesis and receptor interactions; hormone signalling during heats and ruts; the metabolic reasons that fruit was an ideal food between bouts of ‘extreme exercise’; not to mention gonadal redifferentiation in omega males (which was perhaps the only part of the course that Kaydel didn’t find interesting). Lusica nick-named it “the mating course”, a title which was firmly cemented in place after she heard from a grad student that the prof teaching the course held the patents on several commercially available sex products for alphas.

The cold March air is refreshing against Kaydel’s face as she exits on to College Street. Her meeting with Skywalker is in forty-five minutes which gives her twenty minutes to walk there, twenty minutes to review her figures again, five minutes minutes to quietly panic, and then she would be talking to _Luke Skywalker_. 

Despite still feeling mildly dehydrated, her steps are light and quick. She picks her way through the snowy sidewalks by stepping in other people’s footsteps. Big, fluffy snowflakes drift down gently all around her. It feels nice just to be out of the apartment with the chilly air on her face. 

She turns down Spadina Avenue, and starts walking through Chinatown. It’s the same way she used to walk going to the Alpha Services building. She had spent a lot of time there in the first year of her masters, sifting through records and collecting data. Every alpha in the province was registered with Alpha Services. They had records going back to the 1940’s when the first controls on alphas were instituted. Of course most of the records were on paper, which meant that Kaydel had got to do a lot of scanning and coding. 

Of course, she had first gone through ethics approval for the data collection; but the system didn’t fight hard to protect the privacy of alphas, and her approval went through quickly. 

She was very happy with her paper. It was probably good enough that she could do a thesis defense on it alone, but she wanted more evidence. That’s what she told Statura anyway: she wanted to interview alphas to see if her theory held up. 

Of course it’s also possible that she had just wanted to interview alphas. 

Statura had been hesitant. It was one thing to be a pro-alpha alpha researcher, who, as a middle-aged male beta, occasionally interviewed alphas for research. It was another to give approval for a young female student to go out and interview several dozen alphas unsupervised. He had to think of the possible liability, for himself and the university. At least he said as much. And then he had sighed, and said to her, “Wow, I am such a fucking hypocrite.” Kaydel had just stared at him; she didn’t think she had heard him swear before. Luckily he broke the silence. “Let me get back to you about this. I need to think it over.” She had nodded and left his office.

He was as good as his word. He emailed her that night and met with her again the next day. “Okay, here are my thoughts. There is nowhere near enough time for you to do interviews with all the alphas on your list. Not while you still need to polish your paper, and write up whatever you get out of these interviews. Second,” and he paused and sighed again like the day before, “if you are going to do these interviews on your own, I can’t have you visiting several dozen alphas on their own property.”

“But-”

“That’s not coming from me; it’s from the head of ethics.”

Her eyebrows were definitely drawing together over this. “I thought that the Ethics committee is supposed to protect the study _subjects_.”

“The study subjects _and_ the researchers. It's not that I agree with them, but they won’t approve it the way it’s written up now. However... I can get you approved if you want to just do interviews in the prison population. _Ay_ , there will be security, making the ethics board happy, and _Bee_ , you could do multiple interviews at each facility, meaning that you can get more interviews done in the time that you have left.” He leaned back in his chair. “So that’s the offer: prison interviews or just do more work on your current paper.”

She only had to think about it for a moment. “Sounds great.”

So over the last six months she had spent about half her time on the road and half in the city. She had been able to visit most of the province’s correctional alpha units (Sault Ste. Marie and Thunder Bay were just too far to drive and her travel budget was already overdrawn), staying a few days in crummy hotels at each location to do the interviews.

She had just got back from her latest round of interviews, six days ago, when she started to feel unwell. She had been planning to code those interviews and add them to her data-set before she meet with Skywalker, but it would just have to wait until after.

Breaking from her old route to Alpha Services, she turns off Spadina and heads into Kensington Market. She can smell the doughnut shop half a block before she gets there. 

She is still very early when she walks into the shop. It’s cozy, and the whole place smells of spices, baking and coffee. 

She orders a latte and sits near the back facing the door so she could watch for Skywalker. The tables weren’t overly full but there was a steady stream of customers that came in and left with coffee and little bags of baked good. The combination of light chatter and the whirl of the kitchen fans behind her made for a nice steady background noise. She might consider coming back to do some of her editing later.

She takes off her coat, hat and gloves, but she’s still cold enough that she keeps her big fluffy scarf on. She can feel her pulse thrumming away in her neck. She isn’t sure if it was just nerves or the dehydration. Probably both. She really didn’t remember most of the previous four days. One morning she had woken up draped over her computer desk, half-naked, with no idea how she got there from the bed. The website her browser was open to was… interesting.

She takes another big sip of her latte, the hot liquid welcome. She still feels a little achy, but she could handle a conversation. She had gotten good at having conversations with complete strangers over the last six months. 

While participation in her study was voluntary for the alpha inmates, the percentage that participated was high; very high. Originally there were few volunteers, but after the first round of interviews that completely changed. Even prisoners that had originally declined the study were now asking to participate.

She remembers the first one so clearly. Parking outside the prison, going through security. She could bring in paper, but no pens; there would be a pen permanently chained to the interview booth that she could use. There were four interview booths in the room she was put in. She was directed to sit in the last one and wait. 

The booth was just like in the movies: a little desk, with a reinforced double layered plexiglass partition; white letters on it reading “DO NOT TOUCH GLASS” in both directions; a phone hung on the one side to speak to the inmate; all set in a solid cinder block wall.

When the alpha arrived he was wearing a bright orange shirt and matching pants; he had to take short steps because he still had cuffs on his ankles. 

And holy crap he was tall. And muscular. His eyes were green and his hair was blond and slightly curly. He filled the tiny booth as he sat. He rubbed his wrists as he looked at her, and then picked up the receiver on his end. 

Right, she had to use the phone to talk to him, to interview him. She picked up her receiver. She already knew from the picture that she had the right inmate. “Hello, _ree-ANN_?” 

He snorted, and his eyes closed for a moment. “It’s _RAI-an_ actually. It’s just spelled with an ‘i’ not a ‘y’.”

“Oh! Sorry.” Her cheeks flushed hot. “The guards were saying it the other way.” She scribbled 'like Ryan' next to his name.

He huffed out through his nose. “Yeah, they’re always dicks about it.” 

She couldn’t help the nervous smile. “Rian. Nice to meet you.” It felt weird to not introduce herself, but that was one of the protocols for prison interviews: she would provide no name for herself, first or last, or any personal information pertaining to her. “I’m here to do the interview you volunteered for. Can I confirm some of your information first?” He sat politely, studying her, and nodded. 

She went through his basic information and made sure that it was correct. “You are serving time for… two sanctions in a six-month period.” Something didn’t make sense; that would only carry at maximum six-month sentence. “That was three years ago,” her statement standing like a question. She looked up at him for clarification.

“Oh, ah. I’ve picked up some in house sanctions since then.” He gave a little shrug.

“Oh.” She made a little notation on her paper. “Umm.” She didn’t really know what to say to that so she just kept going. “So these are the main interview questions: you presented at sixteen, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Ah- when did you _first_ have a feeling that you might be an alpha.” She swore her heart skipped a beat as she said it; she was having a conversation with an alpha.

“Umm.” Rian folded his hands and leaned back in the tiny metal chair, looking off to the side. It was the first question that he needed time to think about. He looked at her. “I-I dunno. It kinda blindsided me. I had made it to sixteen so I had figured… It actually was a total surprise.”

She jotted everything down quickly, holding the receiver between her head and her shoulder. She had to push her hair back over her shoulder more than once during the interview, and when she looked back to him his eyes darted up from… her chest? No. Her neck? Regardless his eyes now held hers intently, and she had to find where she was on her page again when she looked back to her papers.

She had had a few other questions and they went through them quickly. 

“Umm, okay. That’s the interview portion. I also have special permission to do a quick physical exam if you’ll consent to that.”

His eyebrows shot up in interest. “And how do we do that?” If his eyes were intense before they were more so now, boring into her.

There was something luxurious about his voice that made heat flare between her legs shamelessly. “Ah, it’s just a few measurements. Your right hand and your right ear if you don’t mind.” All the other relevant measurements like heights and weights had been available on the inmates' medical files (Wait, he’s only five foot eleven? He seems taller.), but not these ones. “We have special permission for you to put your hand and head up to the glass so I can measure you.” She pulled a paper measuring tape carefully out of her back pocket; paper so it couldn’t be used to strangle anyone. 

“Ahhh.” He looked hesitantly at the white letters on the glass. “Touching the glass is usually a good way to get a sanction.”

“Oh, umm.” Luckily Statura had made sure she had gotten special permission about this. “I actually have it here.” She flipped to the end of her pile of paperwork. A letter signed by the warden approving of this break in usual protocol; as her eyes skimmed it again she read on a bullet point: “no negative consequences, warning or sanctions will given to inmates that participate in the physical exam portion of the interview, as long as they make no aggressive or unnecessary contact.”

She held it up, not quite touching the glass, so he could read it. And he didn’t just glance at it. He read the whole thing. When it seemed like he had been reading for way too long he finally sat back and said, “Okay. What would you like me to do for you first?”

First she had him hold up his right hand to the glass and she measured it, both from wrist to tip of middle finger, and widest span of his thumb and little finger. 

Then… “Okay, and if you could lean your head against the glass so I can measure your ear.”

It was a little awkward. He had to lean right in, and his cheek was smooshed flat against the glass. “Is that good?”

“Umm yup.” She noticed for the first time that he had a black tattoo on the side of his neck. It was odd; a pine tree, with the roots reaching down and forming the letters “KOR”. She had to stand and lean in a bit too; his ear was placed higher than his hand had been. She placed the tape on her side of the glass, lining it up. She glanced at his face and saw that his eyes were directed again to her neck and perhaps this time to her chest as well; his eyes flicked up to hers a second later and she felt heat flare between her legs again. 

She was suddenly very aware that this was probably the closest he had been to a female in three years, and possibly longer before that.

His ear, right, she was measuring his ear. She turned back to the tape and took the measurement.

They both sat down; her cheeks were still burning a bit. She looked over her papers to see if there was anything she had missed. She could feel his eyes on her. 

When she looked up she noticed that his nose flared when he breathed. Could he smell her? Alpha units were supposed to meet a certain standard for air exchange, but many didn’t. Now that she thought about it, could she smell something different on her side of the glass? Something on top of the concrete smell?

“Thank you for the interview, do you have any questions?” She stammered automatically.

He shook his head, eyes still gently boring into her.

She still had some time left, or at least the guards hadn’t kicked her out yet. Something inside her really didn’t want to go yet. “C-could I ask you about your sanctions? Your original ones and your new ones?”

He nodded and they talked about another twenty minutes until the guards kicked her out.

That was the first one. In total she had done over two hundred interviews, but Rian’s had always stuck out in her memory. 

A few alphas were in for an actual criminal charge, but most were just in on sanctions. Almost all of them were serving extra time for in-house sanctions; she had made a point to ask about this, even through it wasn’t part of her research proposal.

And she’s just thinking about that as a shaggy-haired, bearded man in a long grey coat walks through the doors of the coffee shop.

He looks around and sees her hesitant wave. His face breaks into a smile as he walks over to her, holding his hand out warmly. “Hi you must be Kaydel.” The scent of Old Spice follows him.

She stands. “Yes, hi.” She holds her hands up in front of her. “Actually, I’m just getting over a bad cold, so I shouldn’t shake your hand. I wouldn’t want to get you sick.”

His smile deepens as he takes back his hand. “Very thoughtful of you. Let me get a coffee, and I’ll be right back.” He hangs his coat on the chair opposite her. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you.” She sits and fidgets with her fingernails as he heads back to the counter. He was a little more grey than in the pictures that she had seen, but of course those would be a few years old. He wears a black wool cardigan over a dark green plaid button up shirt, and grey pants; his pot belly sticks out a bit as he stands in line.

He returns shortly with his coffee and doughnut and sits. “My doctor tells me that these things are no good for me,” eyeing the doughnut, “and she’s absolutely right. My health is much better since I cut the sugar out of my coffee but it’s hard to not cheat every once in a while.”

Kaydel just smiles, not quite sure what to say to such a personal comment; at the very least it was a little endearing.

“So Kaydel, I hope you don’t mind me asking to meet with you. Statura told me about your research project, and after I swore to whatever-power-binds-the-universe that I’d keep it a secret, he let me read a draft of your paper. I’m not an academic but I still think it’s impressive. Most impressive.”

Her cheeks go hot. “Oh, thank you Mr. Skywalker.”

“Please, call me Luke.” Again, his smile is infectious. “Statura also tells me that you’ve been doing interviews for a second paper.”

A second paper if she could get it all done in time, but lots of masters students still had publications outstanding at the time of their thesis defense. “Ah, hopefully. Maybe. If there's enough time.”

“Well I hope you do. Anyway I think I was able to follow everything in your paper, but I was wondering if you could walk me through it.”

“Ah, of course. Like... all of it?”

“If you think we have the time.”

“Yeah of course, umm… here I have a copy we can look at.” She retrieves one of her papers and a pen from her purse. “So…” Her heart is pounding in her throat as she realizes she’s about to give a mini thesis defense to _Luke Skywalker_ , a man that’s been working with alphas for probably longer than she’s been alive.

“So in my intro I cover all the relevant background information for the paper. That there is no single gene or combination of genes that have been found that makes a male an alpha,” (Ackbar et al. AON, vol 73, 103-111). “And the same is also true for omegas,” (Holdo et al. AON, vol 83, 56-62).

He nods along.

“And… do you know Vanishing Omega theory? About lack of pheromone stimulation?” (Holdo et al. AON, vol 99, 70-85).

“Mm, I do.”

“Okay, so everyone knows that omegas are becoming more rare in society. And a lot of people believe that the same thing is happening with alphas.”

“Except that your paper here shows that that’s not true.” He looked up from the paper to her.

He had read it! “Yes. But first... from an epidemiology point of view, what we want to know is: are the number of alphas being born per, say, ten thousand male births, going up or going down over time? People believe it’s going down because they see fewer alphas walking around in society. And that’s no surprise because they are either confined to their property, or are in jail, or are deceased. Life expectancy for alphas is roughly ten to fifteen years shorter than their beta counterparts.” (Statistics Canada, _Deaths in alphas_ , 2015).

“Anyway what I did was I looked at the number of documented alpha, born in a given year, compared to the number of male betas also born that year. And I tracked all the numbers for as many years as I had good records.”

“And you found...” he intoned.

She flipped to the fourth page of her draft, and she finished where he left off. “... that the rate of alphas presenting in the Canadian population is going up, and that increases in the presentation rate correlate each time with the introduction of laws that further segregate alphas from the general population.” And she turned her paper around and pointed out the places on the graph where the increases took place. “Alphas can’t hold positions in government,” a small shift up. “Alphas can’t own companies,” another small shift. “Alphas can’t work in positions of trust or with dangerous equipment,” a larger shift. “Alphas can’t work,” the largest bump yet. “Alphas rates aren’t decreasing, they’re increasing.”

He gave the graph a thoughtful look. “Allow me to play Emperor’s Advocate. Why would this happen?”

“So... if you think about a wolf pack, if the alpha dies suddenly the whole pack doesn’t just die as well. Usually the strongest beta will then become the new alpha; his hormones change, his scent changes, his behaviour changes. So let’s call that wolf a secondary alpha. He’s an alpha, but he remains suppressed in the presence of a stronger alpha. As opposed to a primary alpha, who undergoes those changes automatically when reaching maturity, and will either challenge the old alpha, or leave start their own pack.

“So what if it’s the same in humans? What if there are primary alphas and secondary alphas. If enough alphas live within the population, the secondary alphas remain as betas. But if you remove all the primary alphas from a society, then there is nothing to stop the secondary alphas from converting.”

“And then they, of course, are also subject to segregation.”

“Yeah.” She had already come to this conclusion, but it still stung to discuss it.

“So…” He takes a long sip of coffee, his eye looking thoughtful. “So, can you prove that this is what’s happening? And is there a way to tell the difference between a primary alpha and a secondary alpha?”

“Yeah, so this is where my new research looks really promising. I got permission to do interviews with incarcerated alphas. I went to all but two of the alpha prisons in Ontario. About ninety-six percent of the alphas agreed to be interviewed. After collecting my data I separated the alphas based on their age of presentation, and then I plotted different characteristics, like height and ear size. And when you do that with a large enough sample size you start to see trends.” 

She leans down and grabs the few loose graphs she had printed from her purse and placed them on the table. Across the page are overlapping clusters of different coloured dots. “So here each colour represents a different age of presentation, red being the youngest at eleven, dark purple being the oldest at nineteen.” She points out the colour key at the bottom of her graph. 

“And here we have height on the X-axis, and ear size on the Y-axis. If you look at the average heights and ears sizes for each age category, you will see that the earliest presenters are, on average, the tallest and have the biggest ears, and the averages decrease successively as the age of presentation goes up.” Overlaid on the graph of tiny rainbow dots were coloured bold crosses, indicating the average measurements for each group and the confidence intervals around that measurement. “Of course the confidence intervals on the groups that presented age seventeen and above are too wide to be meaningful, but that’s just because there were so few alphas that presented that old.” 

She realizes suddenly that Luke has become very still; just looking at the graph silently. He had seen her paper before but not her interview results. Prior to this he had seemed quite jovial and encouraging, but now… 

Kaydel feels unease roiling in her stomach. She doesn’t quite know what to do, so she does what she had always done in tense situations: don’t move and don’t speak until spoken too.

Luke seems to master his reaction and he becomes simply pensive. He studies the graph for a while more, but then turns his gaze up to Kaydel like he’s studying her. 

It's like he’s reading every layer of her, appraising her openly. Kaydel waits patiently for him to lead with the next question. She can tell he's trying to decide something important to him, so she doesn’t balk at the odd direction of his next question.

“Where are you from?”

The answer was out of her mouth before she could really think about it. “Nowhere.” 

His voice is suddenly very kind. “No one’s from nowhere-”

“Wawa.”

“Alright, that is pretty much nowhere. What do you think of alphas, Kaydel from nowhere?”

She avoids his eyes. “Everyone says their dangerous, that-” 

“What do _you_ think of alphas?” he says with a deep rumble.

She looks down at the graphs. It was one thing for her to have a secret obsession about alphas: her collection of restricted books; that she had taken every undergrad course that had anything to do with alphas; that she frequently read pro-alpha forums; that she followed alpha rights cases that were working their way through the court system; that she sometimes watched alpha/omega porn in the privacy of her bedroom; that the men she sometimes went home with after a night of clubbing were always tall and well built; that since starting her interviews she’d been thinking far too much about a certain tall blond alpha with piercing green eyes.

But she had never publicly admitted what she really thought about alphas. To anyone. Not to Lusica or Statura. Not even online where she could be anonymous. Growing up in a small town - growing up in her house - there had been too much anti-alpha sentiment. She could think what she wanted on the inside, but there was something in her brain that always stopped her from expressing it out loud, something so ingrained that she didn’t even question it.

She’s pretty sure that Statura had almost passed her over as a grad student, because she could never quite answer _why_ she wanted to do alpha research.

Logically she knows that the man in front of her was one of the most pro-alpha rights individuals in the country. How could it hurt to tell him how she feels?

At the thought of it an uncomfortable sensation starts buzzing in her abdomen just below her sternum. Skywalker’s question sits at the front of her mind unable to rest while it went unanswered; she wants to reply but some barrier in her mind won’t let her put the words together.

She feels the anxiety rising from being pulled in two directions.

She realized her palms are sweating.

Her breathing is too fast.

She’s been silent for way too long.

She glances back up at Skywalker, worried that his serious stare might be on her now, but his face is different now. His grim look is now replaced by concern. “Hey… Kaydel... it’s okay.” He reinforces his soothing words by gently resting the tips of his fingers on the back of her forearm. He leans in a little bit. “You can tell me.” The tight feeling in her chest eases as she takes a deep breath.

She wants to. It’s right there. Why can’t she just spit it out?

“It’s okay…” His eyes were so kind. If Kaydel ever believed in being able to trust a stranger based on instinct this was it. “It’s going to be okay.”

But it isn’t. It isn’t if she can’t answer him. She can feel her heart pounding in her neck again, sweat starting to collect under her scarf. Her eyes try looking elsewhere, as she mentally paces in circles.

She hears Skywalker take a long breath. “Kaydel...” There was something deep in his voice that makes her eyes snap to his. His eyes hold hers gently, and with a level of intensity that would normally be inappropriate for two people that have only known each other for ten minutes he says, “Tell me.”

And something deep inside her, some little dam, breaks.

“I love alphas,” she blurts out. Not loudly but bluntly, and Luke’s eyebrows shoot up a bit before he can stop himself. “I’ve always loved them, since I was a little girl. I think they’re amazing. I think it’s terrible that they’re being segregated and being locked up for practically no reason at all. If a group of betas were being treated this way, they’d call it a crime; when they do it to alphas they call it a public service. It’s ridiculous. The only alphas I’ve ever met were the ones that I interviewed. Those interviews are the best and worst things that’s ever happened to me. I loved and hated every minute. The alphas, every single one of them is interesting. It’s like they have this power to make people pay attention to them. I could stare at them for hours. I-” She looks down at her near empty coffee cup to avoid his gaze. “Is that enough?”

“Yeah. That’ll do.” She chances a look up at him, and he has a huge smirk on his face, but it’s self deprecating as if the joke’s all on him. His eyes search her face, as if he’s seeing her for the first time all over again and is trying to figure her out. After a long moment passes he speaks, “Kaydel, I want to share something with you.”

Something in the way he says it tells her this is important; she feels likes she's passed some sort of test. “Okay.” She really doesn’t know what to expect but she feels calm and safe, despite that she just did the one thing that she had been avoiding for the last twenty odd years. 

“Just… don’t say anything.” And with that he turns his head to the side and brushes his hair behind his ear.

Now, Kaydel has spent the last six months looking at and measuring ears. Measured from lobe to tip, the average alpha ear is about ten percent larger than the average beta ear. But the total size isn’t the only clue that an ear is a beta-ear or an alpha-ear; in an alpha the pinna, or shell, is angled backwards, making the whole thing look a little swept back. Kaydel has always been good a visual pattern recognition and while six months ago she may have had trouble sorting out alpha-ears and beta-ears, now she was an expert.

And as she stares at Luke’s ear she has to clap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from voicing what she’s thinking.

Luke let’s his hair fall back into place and watches her from the corner of his eye. Slowly he turns back her her. “Are you okay with that?” he asks.

Kaydel smiles so hard from behind her hand that her cheeks start to cramp and she nods furiously. Her eyes flick to his wrist. It’s adorned with a simple watch and nothing more. Her eyes go back to his; now it’s her turn to study him from scratch.

He lets her study him openly, casually taking a long draw of his coffee. After a bit he leans in and lowers his voice, even though there is no one in easy listening distance. “So… if you can keep that to yourself, how about I tell you the story of why there is an alpha walking around in downtown Toronto with no tracker on his wrist? Deal?” 

She nods her head furiously again and slowly lowers the hand that’s covering her mouth.

“My mother died when my sister and I were born, and my father was… unable to look after us. I was grew up in foster care, in a small backwater town. And believe me, the moment I presented I was not welcome anymore. The government got involved, and I was shipped off to the alpha school to live there three-hundred and sixty-five days a year. 

“The headmaster at the time was a man named Sidney Palpatine. He was horrible; he ruled the school like a dictator. He even hired security guards to patrol the halls and grounds; if kids got out of line they would often get corporal punishment. But that didn’t stop boys from being boys.

“My best friend at alpha school was a kid named Biggs. We were inseparable and we were constantly getting into trouble. One day we stole some paint from the art room and got caught drawing graffiti on the school walls. Palpatine personally gave both of us the strap. I think I could have let it slide, but Biggs wanted to rebel. I knew he was planning something but I didn’t know what. Then one night the fire alarm went off.

“Now let me explain about the school. The school used to be a religious private school. The grounds were bought by the province in the fifties, and it was then used as a school for alphas. The school used to have three buildings: one for dorms, one for classes, and one with the old chapel on the main level, and the library in the basement. That third building was Palpatine’s favourite. Even though the alpha school was supposed to be secular, he did a good job of keeping the vestiges of religion all around us.

“It was the third building that was on fire that night. The sight of it was terrifying and awesome all at the same time. We all stared out of our dorm windows watching the flames consume the other building in the dark of the night; all of us except for Biggs. 

“He had lit the fire of course.” Skywalker's eyes traveled down to the table. “The guards caught him.” His eyes were a bit shiny as they came up to Kaydel’s. “And they beat him to death.” Kaydel’s skin ran cold all over her. “Of course they said he was violent, that he fought back, that he had gone _feral_. There were at least six of them there; six adult men against one teenage alpha.” 

He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I felt responsible. For getting us both into trouble. For not stopping him. So I made a decision that I was going to end Palpatine’s reign. I finished my high-school diploma at the alpha school. I wanted to do post-secondary education but alphas were already restricted from higher learning at that point. However, the government was also trying to do more research on alphas and they had a program that alphas could volunteer for.” He reached into his pocket. “Agree to take these,” and he plopped down a pill bottle on the table, “and you get to live a less restricted life.”

Kaydel stares at the bottle of white round tablets. “What is it?”

“It’s an anti-testosterone medication; chemical castration. The deal was: take those and you could basically live life like a beta. You could go to school, get a job, drive a car, and drink alcohol. You still couldn’t have a gun; you still have to wear a tracker, but you can wear it on your ankle and it won’t beep when you leave your property.” His heads cocks to the side and down, subtly indicating his own foot. “If you’re in the program you can go anywhere a beta can go, inside the country. So at nineteen I took them up on that. I did more school, got my teaching degree. I worked as a substitute high-school teacher, and was working on a master in social work. And I waited.” And suddenly a slightly gleeful smile cracked his face for a moment. “And then one year Palpatine broke his leg while skiing at Whistler. I applied to be his replacement. I spun the angle that a controlled alpha would be a good role model for the kids. Apparently I didn’t need to bother because no one else applied. No one wanted the job. The violence between students and guards was becoming more and more common. The school was having a hard time retaining teachers, and the cost for security was scaling up fast.

“So I took over as temporary headmaster. And the first thing I did was sit down with the senior classmen and I told them: they could keep dicking around and in three months Palatine would be back and nothing would change, or they could stop dicking around and I would try to get rid of the guards. And suddenly all the tardiness, and pranks and general dickery stopped in the upper year class. And because they stopped so did the year below them and the year below them and so on. The teachers were happy because they could teach. And I made a recommendation to start cutting the guard staff, which would save the school a lot of money.

“And then my three months were up and Palpatine came back.” He turned to his doughnut and took a big bite.

“What happened?”

He smiled. “The school went ballistic. All the good behaviour vanished. It was so bad the teachers complained to the board and threatened to either quit or go to the media. So the board offered Palpatine a transfer and I suspect they didn’t give him the option of saying ‘no’. And they asked me to be headmaster. Permanently.”

“You got rid of him.”

“And the guards eventually.”

“And if someone gets out of line?”

“I deal with it.” He takes another bite of his doughnut. “Without the strap.”

They are both quiet for a moment.

Kaydel looks at the pills on the table. “What is that like? Being on them.” Kaydel understands the main side effects of that kind of medication: no testosterone, no libido, no sexual function.

Skywalker thankfully seems to know she knows this. He pops the last of his doughnut in his mouth and speaks. “It’s like… I think it would be like missing a hand. Your missing something that’s a part of you.” He licks his fingers absentmindedly. “But it’s doesn’t unmake you as an alpha. My scent isn’t as strong, but it’s still much stronger than a beta. And I can still smell other alphas; their emotions. Which is handy when you’re trying to figure out who put laxative in the chemistry teacher’s coffee.”

Kaydel snorts on the latte she just sipped and laughs. Skywalker smiles too.

“So the government sends someone every so often to count my pills and take blood samples to make sure I’m compliant. I have to do a questionnaire every year as part of their ongoing research project.”

“Could you go off of them?”

“Any time I want to. But if I did I’d lose all my privileges, including my job. And the program is no longer open. If I stop I can’t restart.” He gets that far off look in his eyes again. “Some people thinks it’s a mistake on my part; even members of my own family. That I’m letting _them_ win, that I’m running away from who I am. But… it’s my penance, and I’ve made peace with that.”

Kaydel’s really not sure what to say but thankfully he turns to the papers between them.

“So anyway,” He adjusts the page with her rainbow coloured dots. “Back to your paper. Let’s say your right. Let’s say that the secondary alpha theory is true. What do you think is going to happen after you publish?”

“What... do you mean?”

“Well… I think a paper like this is going to get a lot of attention. So while it’s meant for the scientific community, it’s also going to get picked up by the media. The media will show it to the public. First everyone will wonder that if secondary alphas are normally suppressed by alpha pheromones, is there a way that we could protect secondary alphas from converting, so that they can just be betas. Then the pharmaceutical companies are going to come along. They will come out with artificial pheromones, nasal sprays, maybe a once a day pill, all to suppress conversion. Of course you don’t know who the secondary alphas are, so you’d really have to treat all male betas if you wanted to spare them from converting. At first taking suppressants will be optional, of course, but put the wrong politician in power and they may legislate that all males must take suppressants, maybe not in this country but in some counties. The pharmaceutical companies will make millions and to protect their profits they will use any leverage they have to bolster anti-alpha sentiment in the public. 

“And then they will try to make suppressants strong enough to stop all alphas from presenting. Who knows what the effect of that will be.

“And then they will probably use this pheromone pathway to try to _reverse_ alphas, to turn them back into betas. I have the sense that it won’t work, but they’ll still try it.”

“But…” Her words die on her tongue as she looks upon Luke’s face, no longer just serious, but also forlorn. She looks down to her paper. “So if I publish I’m going to make alphas a target for further experimentation, and political targeting.” She looks up at him. “That’s why you contacted me. You wanted to see what risk my research poses to alphas.” 

Skywalker takes his time collecting his thoughts before answering. “I don’t believe in the suppression of science. We should never have to hide the truth. However, we are clearly living in less than ideal times, where there are those that would take advantage of opportunities like this. I think… it would be best to think these things over carefully before doing anything. You only get one chance to control the message when you first publish; once it’s out you have no control. I think your first paper is fine actually, though you could beef up statements like segregation may be linked to higher rates of alphas and just leave it at that. You could suggest that desegregation may be the best option for reducing alpha over-population. Your second study however…” A conflicted look crosses over his face...

...and Kaydel sees the problem clearly. “If we publish we doom presented alphas to worse conditions. If we don’t publish, then the secondary alphas never get the choice to avoid presenting...”

“...and they are forced to suffer along with the other alphas.” He sighed. “Congratulations. You hold the fate of thousands of people in your hands and they don’t even know it.”

“It feels horrible.”

“Yup.” He takes another long draw of coffee. “It’s not the kind of decision you can really make for another person. And yet...”

Her head is spinning from all the ramifications. She folds the papers in half and stuffs them in her purse before looking back up to Luke’s eyes. “So what do I do?”

His eyes search the room before returning to hers. “I would suggest thinking about this, hard. How does this choice it make you feel? How do the different options make you feel? Kaydel… I know that you’ve worked very hard on this but, I need you to put aside what you might gain academically by publishing. For the moment, the thing to do is wait.” 

Her head was nodding along with what he was saying “I can do that.” 

“You may need to come up with something else for your second paper, as a cover.”

“I’ll think of something.” A thought makes her pause. “Can we tell Statura? He knows all my results already.”

“I’ll talk to him; he’ll understand.” He pauses. “Kaydel, thank-you for understanding.” She feels herself glowing again from his support. “It means a lot to me.”

She smiles and blushes.

“We’ve probably been talking long enough, and I’m sure you have things to do. Can I give you a ride home?”

“Oh, that would be really nice.” She doesn’t know why she’s smiling so much, but she is. 

He stands and she goes to follow suit, but almost falls down when her scarf catches on her chair. She tries a moment to free the snag, but she can't get it to unhook, so she unwraps it from around her neck.

It just happens to be that at that moment one of the shop’s staff opens the back door and gust of cold fresh air blows past them to the front of the store.

It’s not until Kaydel finally unhooks the snared loop of yarn and stands that she sees the stunned look on Luke’s face. She freezes, self conscious. 

He’s looking at her likes she’s grown an extra head when he says, “Kaydel, did you say you were sick the last few days?”

“Umm, yeah. I had the flu.”

“How many days?”

“F-four or five.”

He sets down his coffee. “What symptoms did you have?”

“Um, aches all over, fever, some pain in my lower abdomen.” She omits the dislike of clothes and kicking her roommate out of her room.

“Has that ever happened before?”

She thinks a moment. “Actually yeah, back in September; not quite as bad, but I still had to spend a few days in bed.”

He takes a half step forward and he’s just at the edge of her personal space.

“Kaydel… don’t … move.” And he leans in and inhales tentatively, and then a second time, deeper. Slowly he straightens and takes half a step back. He’s wearing another serious look, but it’s different than the others.

“What is it?” She asks nervously.

Finally he smiles and gives a little half laugh.

“Kaydel…” He pauses again as if not sure how to proceed.

“What?”

He’s wearing that self-deprecating smirk all over again, but for the life of her she doesn’t know why. 

“Kaydel,” he says as he leans in a bit in order to drop his voice to a whisper. “You're not a beta.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My libido** : So we're, like, really doing this right?  
>  **Me** : Yeah, like it's going to be a lot of writing, and it's going to be pretty dark at times, but-  
>  **My libido** : No, the porn.  
>  **Me** : ...  
>  **My libido** : Like Kaydel and Rian are going to bang it out in chapter two right?  
>  **Me** : Ah no.  
>  **My libido** : What??  
>  **Me** : Didn't you read the tags? This is a slow burn.  
>  **My libido** : This is an a/b/o fic. There is no slow burn. It's not a thing.  
>  **Me** : A/b/o slow burn is a thing; Isha invented it.  
>  **My libido** : ...  
>  **My libido** : ...  
>  **My libido** : So... chapter three?  
>  **Me** : ...
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”  
>   
> “Of course you didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... everything that happened here... yeah it just kind of happened.  
> I hope it doesn't weird people out too much. As the tag says: certain lines will not be crossed. Hope you all keep reading.  
> 

“You’re not a beta.” Of that Luke has no doubt. When he had first caught just a whiff of her scent the overwhelming aromas of the bakery - of spices, caramelized sugar, ground coffee and chocolate - had tried to obscure it. 

But he’s sure now.

Despite his altered hormone profile, he’s still an alpha and there’s a part of his attention that’s still keenly wired to a particular type of scent; the sour, unsatisfied overtones that accompany hers only make him that much more certain.

There’s a wariness in Kaydel’s eyes from when he had drawn near to her. Not the fear and disdain that many betas show alphas; just the uncertainty of someone unfamiliar stepping inside your personal space. He kicks himself now for doing that; he’s spent over thirty years trying to master such impulses, and when he least expects it, like getting coffee with a random grad student that smells different, it can still get the best of him. 

He watches Kaydel’s wariness fade away, leaving something puzzled in its place and then her face changes all in an instant. 

Her eyes go wide and her jaw drops to let in the gasp that she’s already trying to cover with her hand. The gasp is high pitched and it seems to make her legs half buckle. And then she’s laughing, and laughing, and trying to straighten up but the laughter just keeps tumbling out of her, near-hysterically, as the biggest smile tries to split her face, leaving Luke just to gape at her. 

“Kaydel?”

But she just keeps laughing, doubled over, trying to cover her mouth. 

_Shit._ Maybe he should have done this differently. He should know better. “Kaydel... are you okay?” 

Her laughter runs itself out into giggles and she finally settles enough to spit out, “Yes,” but then she just spirals into laughter again, each laugh now with words in between. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh my gods, oh my gods, ohmygods.” She’s finally able to straighten but then she just starts making excited little hops, which only cause the air around her to swim with her scent. 

He switches to his best no-nonsense teacher voice, “Okay, Kaydel, we’re calming down. Now,” and oddly it seems to work because her jumps get smaller and smaller. “Good. That’s better.” Her face is flushed and her pretty eyes sparkle as she beams at him.

_Wait, what?_

“Okay. Coats. Now. Outside.” Luke grabs his coat and without even putting it on heads for the backdoor. He bursts into the side alley and starts sucking the fresh, clean, freezing air.

If his sudden departure was unusual, Kaydel doesn’t seem to mind. She happily half-stumbles into the alley a few moments later, coat on, her laughter downgraded to the occasional giggle. 

His head is clearer. It’s better outside. _What the fuck was that?_ He takes note of the light breeze so he doesn’t get caught in her lee. 

“Kaydel...” He starts putting his jacket on.

At his voice she turns to him, still smiling absurdly. 

“Kaydel, are you okay?” He can’t believe he just did that to her in a fucking coffee shop.

“Yup.” Her smile deepens and she nods.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.” The nod deepens. The smile deepens. How is it possible to smile that much?

He takes a moment to slow his breathing down before continuing. “Kaydel, this has a lot of implications.” Another big breath. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The question wasn’t even out of his mouth when her head started bobbing up and down again, this time the rest of her body joining in, bouncing on her toes.

“Okay.” His heart rate was starting to settle as well. “I have to go back to Yavingard tomorrow.” The Yavingard School for Alphas. “Is tonight okay?”

She just nods. ‘Bright eyed and bushy tailed’ doesn’t even begin to describe Kaydel at this moment.

“If we’re going to talk we need to go somewhere more private, okay?”

“Okay.” Bubbles aren’t this bubbly. 

“Okay,” he echos lamely. “Right then.” He pulls out his phone and selects an entry from his favourites list.

 _“Hello?”_ the female voice chimes into his ear; it sounds like she’s on speaker phone.

“Hey it’s me. Do you mind if I bring someone by the house?”

There’s a tiny gap before the response comes. _“That’s fine. Just one?”_

“Ah…” He glances at Kaydel. “Maybe two by the end of the night.”

_“Sounds good.”_

“See you in a bit.”

 _“See you.”_ He lowers his phone and ends the transmission.

He looks at Kaydel. “Ladies first.” He motions to the mouth of the alley. She’s still beaming as she steps out in front of him. 

They walk through the dark, mostly empty streets, her in front and him behind, Luke signalling her when they need to turn. Her steps are light and quick; any more so and she’d be skipping. Thankfully, if he does catch her scent it’s just a faint whiff on the wind.

He guides them to a parking garage a few blocks away. The parking machine takes his slip grumpily, making an array of beeping sounds at each step of the payment process and eventually he coakes a paid ticket from it.

He points out his vehicle when it comes into sight and Kaydel trots over to the passenger side.

They get in and he instantly realizes his mistake. He gets the power on, the windows down, and set the fan to high before even bothering with the ignition. “Are you okay if I drive with the windows down?”, he says as if it’s a perfectly normal question to ask in winter.

“Yup,” she nods.

He can’t tell if she’s being affected by his scent or not; she’s certainly acting exceptionally... agreeable. But, he supposes, she also may be in shock. Either way he needed the windows down. “Oo-kay. Let me know if you’re getting cold.” Even though it’s somewhat futile, he sets the temperature controls to max and directs the vents he can reach towards her. 

He pulls out onto the street and a short while later they’re cruising up Bayview Avenue.

She hasn’t said anything since the parking garage. He sneaks a glance at her: she’s looking out the windows with wide attentive eyes, the wind blowing stray hairs around her face. “We’re going to my sister’s house. Do you know her? Of her? Leia Organa?”

“Yup.” He can make out the bob of her head in his peripheral vision. 

“We’ll have to tell her, if that’s okay. She can help you, and you can trust her.”

“M-hm.”

A few seconds pass.

“And I’d suggest telling Statura. We could tell him tonight if you want.”

“Okay.”

They ride in silence again for a bit.

“I don’t know how long you want to talk. Is there anyone who’s going to be expecting you later tonight?”

“Mmm,” is all she says before pulling her phone out of her purse and sending off a text.

“Who was that?” He’s knows he’s acting rather alpha, but between driving, talking, and the extra pheromones in the car it’s all he can manage. 

“My roommate.” 

He wants to learn more about this roommate, but his logical side wins this one: “What did you write?”

She answers immediately, glancing at her screen. “‘Going out with someone. Be home late.’”

Something catches in his throat, forcing him to cough. “Good.” He stops asking questions and they ride the next few minutes in silence.

They pull onto a side street and then turn again, entering one of Toronto’s older neighbourhoods. All the houses were huge, many with fences and gates guarding their perimeter. They pull in at one such gated driveway and Luke waves them in with his passkey. 

He parks long the side of the house, kills the ignition and is almost out of the vehicle when Kaydel speaks. “Windows.” Her voice is calm and factual.

Right. The windows were still down. 

_Focus on the present_.

He turns back, leaving his door open while he closes the windows, before locking the vehicle.

Kaydel is waiting some steps off and they head in the sidedoor. They enter into a small hall which is adjacent to a breakfast nook attached to the kitchen. 

When they enter, Luke moves to the nearest environmental control panel, and makes a couple of selections which triggers a low hum to join that of the ventilation system.

He directs her to take off her boots and hang her coat in a nearby closet. He, instead, hangs his coat on the back of a chair at the breakfast table.

As they move through the kitchen a tall, skinny, older man with thick glasses turns from the sink. “Sir, welcome back. Should I inform Ms. Organa that you’ve arrived?”

“No, thank-you, Threepio. Threepio, this is Kaydel. Could you show her to the sitting room and make her comfortable? I’ll be down with Leia in a moment.”

He turns to Kaydel, “I’ll be right back.” She doesn’t seem perturbed to be put into the other man’s care for the moment. In fact she seems perfectly happy, looking at him with her big eyes, and smiling lips and-

He turns and has to force himself not to bolt away ahead of them. He takes the stairs to the second floor and when he’s out of sight he leans against the hallway wall, taking a few deep pheromone-free breaths. 

_Fuck._

He had met omegas before, but they had never had this kind of effect on him. At least, not this strong, not this fast.

He lets himself rest a moment until the urge to turn around and rejoin her downstairs passes. If he just kept his distance the rest of the night, the ventilation system should keep him in the clear; Leia had alpha/omega guests rather frequently, and so had installed a particle scrubber on the ventilation system to prevent pheromones from building up.

He finds Leia easily in her office. She’s on the phone so he hovers in the hallway; he takes out his cell and sends a text to Statura.

Leia finishes her call, though she is still typing on her computer when he enters. The office had been her adoptive father’s, all old wood and leather furniture. Her law degree hangs on the wall behind her. He takes a chair as he waits for her to finish. 

She types for a minute or two more before she’s able to split her attention enough to address him. “So, who’s here? Kanan and Hera?” She would have noticed the scrubbers coming on. 

“Her name is Kaydel.” 

Leia looks up at him questioningly.

“She’s Statura’s grad student.”

She sits back in her chair. “I didn’t know Statura had a -”

“She didn’t know.”

“Oh.” Leia’s ‘oh’s were always so dignified.

“She just spent the last six months doing interviews with incarcerated alphas for her research project.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Usually dignified.

“And I’m pretty sure she just finished a heat, possibly her second.”

Leia seemed to process this a moment before continuing. “And you told her?”

“Yes.”

“And..?”

Luke looks around the well furnished room. “I think she’s actually… very happy about it. Adjusting, but happy.” He remembers her smile and he can’t stop one from forming on his face. 

“And did you tell her..?” She nods her chin at him.

“Actually that came up first.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

He raises one hand to wave her off. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

She studies him. “Are _you_ okay?”

Was he? “It’s fine... I got a handle on it.”

She searches his face. “You’re sure?”

“If I didn’t, would I be here?”

“But…”

“But?”

“...you look like you’re on edge.”

He thought back to the moment in the coffee shop, and the one just now in the kitchen. He couldn’t quite meet Leia’s gaze. “Maybe I’m having a little trouble.”

“Would you like me to take over?” 

The alpha in him certainly doesn’t want her to but... “Yeah. That would be best.” 

“What do you know about her?”

He snorts a laugh. “Almost nothing.” He thinks hard. “She’s originally from Wawa. She’s Statura’s student. She has a roommate. And her research… that was the paper I was telling you about at breakfast.”

“Ah. Anything else?”

Shaking his head is easier than voicing it. 

“Sounds good. She’s downstairs?” 

He grunts in the affirmative. “Sitting room.” 

She folds up a few more things on her desk before standing and giving her back a stretch. 

For a moment Luke is lost in a blur of snapshot moments; of delicate fingers pointing to a rainbow of dots, pink lips slipping lattes, of smiles and trilling laughter and-

“Luke,” Leia says from the door. A long pause fills the room before she continues. “I can do this on my own if you need me to.”

That snapped him out of it. “No, I’m coming.” He pushes himself up off the chair and follows her through the wide hallways. “I invited Statura over; haven’t told him yet. She’s okay with him knowing.”

“Hmm.” Before they get to the stairs she slows their pace and looks at him. “Luke… you know what I’m going to say to her, right?”

His inner alpha was not happy. “Yeah, I know.” They had done this enough times before; it was practically routine. “That’s fine.”

She stares at him for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. The plan is you introduce me, and then you can hang back.”

He just nods.

As they enter the sitting room he sees Kaydel looking a photos on the fireplace mantel. When she smiles at him he feels his heart skip a beat. Yeah, he had a problem.

“Kaydel,” he tries to say as if nothing in the world was wrong. “I’d like you to meet my sister, Leia Organa.”

Despite Leia’s seriousness just moments ago, now she effuses warmth and welcome. “Kaydel, so nice to meet you. I heard you’ve had quite the day.” She takes the young woman’s hands in hers and leads her over to the two couches that face each other by the fireplace, the two women remarkably similar in height.

Kaydel looks back to Luke for a moment, unsure. He gives her his best encouraging smile and it must have worked because she seems to visibly relax as she sits across from Leia.

By this point Leia has turned her politician’s charm on full force. “So tell me a little bit about yourself. You’re from Wawa originally, aren’t you..?”

Luke sits in an armchair on the far side of the room, and over the next thirty minutes watches as Leia deftly extracts Kaydel’s life story. Without meaning to he memorizes every factoid of her life: a synopsis of her undergraduate studies; that she’s been estranged from her parents for the last couple of years; the rough location of her apartment; who her roommate is; that she follows alpha politics closely, including Leia’s work. She and Leia discuss her research at length.

“If you’re in your second year of your masters you must be, what, twenty-five?”

“Twenty-four.”

_Oh, fuck._

He knew she was young, but some part of him had neglected to process just how young she was. But there it was. She was less than half his age. This was far, far, past becoming a dirty old man. _Fuck_. All the more reason that this had to stop; not that he didn’t have enough reasons already; not that what his inner alpha wanted wasn’t already impossible.

“Oh right, there’s no grade 13 anymore.” Leia continues.

 _Except at the alpha school_ , Luke thinks to himself. He had to fight every year to keep it, knowing that that’s all the education his students would get. 

“Anyway, Luke tells me that you two made a discovery at the coffee shop.”

The ridiculously gleeful grin from earlier spreads across Kaydel’s face as she glances over to him. He almost thought she was going to start laughing again, but she’s able to muster a fairly straight, “Yeah,” to Leia.

“And how are you feeling about that?”

“I think it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Everything makes so much sense now.” She practically glows.

At this Luke’s inner alpha preens for being the cause of her happiness; and Luke just hates himself for it feeling that way, powerless to stop it.

“Well I’m so glad to hear that. There’s a lot of changes on the road ahead for you... potentially. Have you had any thoughts about any of that?” 

Kaydel pauses a moment, looking inward. From what they just heard she’s been exposed to more alpha/omega education than most people would have in their lifetime, but most of what she’s learned is just biology and chemistry, nothing about _living_ as an omega, so in a way Luke is relieved when she says, “I don’t even know where to start.” That was good; she was being honest with herself. And maybe it was a sign that he and Leia had earned her trust, though that only stirred more conflicted feelings within him.

“Well nothing needs to happen right away.” Leia’s voice is warm and motherly. “The biggest question is, do you declare your designation or keep it a secret? Kaydel, do you understand what happens to omegas that get registered?” The government still ran ads occasionally to encourage reporting - by one’s self or otherwise - of both alphas and omega; the alpha ads were just fear-mongering, but the omega ads were a farce.

“A little.” She looks unsure for the first time and Luke has to fight the impulse to comfort her.

“Can I tell you what I honestly think?” The seriousness had crept back into Leia’s demeanor. 

Kaydel nods.

“If you register now, your life as you know it will be over. You’ll be given an comfy apartment, and a monthly allowance, which all sounds great at first. But you won’t be allowed to continue your masters studies. You will have a curfew and you will have bodyguards assigned to you anytime you leave your building. Visits with anyone but family will need to be pre-approved. And if you break any of their rules they will restrict your freedoms further. I know because I’m in contact with a few omegas that are being held like this.

“In some people’s eyes you are a thing, a national treasure that needs to be protected. And in other people’s eyes you are part of alpha scourge that ruined society. Either way, you will be locked away all in the name of keeping you safe from the world or vice versa. 

“And I’m not trying to presume anything, but should you ever want to meet an alpha, regardless of the reason, there is little to no chance of that happening once you register. In theory there’s a process for that to happen, but in over thirty years I’ve never seen a single application be approved. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying Kaydel?” 

Kaydel nods. Luke had heard it all before, but picturing Kaydel being locked away was making his blood boil. _Control_.

“I’m not saying you need to keep it a secret forever, but if I was an omega, I would never register prior to finding and bonding a mate. And if you’re not going to register, then I strongly encourage you to only tell those that you can absolutely trust. If anyone finds out and thinks, ‘Oh silly omega, obviously you need to register,’ and they report you, then you’d get picked up by Omega Services and held until your designation could be confirmed. If you tell the wrong person your life as you know it, again, will be over. And I’m sorry to be so blunt, but I don’t want something bad to happen to you.”

Kaydel had been studying the coffee table between them, and just now looks back up to Leia. “What about Lusica?” It’s perhaps the first question that Kaydel’s asked since the coffee shop.

“Will you give me a week to think on your situation with her?” Luke knows that that roughly translates to: “Give me a week for my people to look into her.” He appreciates how careful Leia is being and he’s relieved when Kaydel nods in agreement.

Leia carries on. “So the next question is, and I’m sorry for being indelicate, what would you like to do about your biology?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well it sounds like you’ve accidentally had two unassisted heats. I’m not sure how you found it, and forgive me if I’m wrong, but I assume that they weren’t pleasant. But more important than being uncomfortable, if you have one at the wrong place, at the wrong time, you could end up putting yourself physically at risk.”

Again Luke can feel the alpha in him stirring, trying to rage against the idea of Kaydel in danger. Things could have gone very badly if she had still been doing interviews when her heats struck. He needs to distract himself from the intrusive images his mind conjures. He gazes at the wall across from him. 

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

“It’s completely your choice if you don’t want to change anything, but you have to know that you will continue to be at risk of periodic heats, especially if you continue having contact with alphas.”

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

“Another option is that you see a doctor who can prescribe you a combination of medications to suppress your heats. I’m thinking of one doctor in particular; she will keep all of your information confidential. She won’t report you.”

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

“Even if you don’t want to suppress your heats all the time, I think you should see her. I believe she can also provide you with medications for emergency heat suppression, and there may be other matter that require discussion. I can get you an appointment with her in the next week or two.”

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

“Of course there still exists the _traditional_ option, not that it’s something you _have to_ or _should_ do. Obviously I’m talking about finding an alpha you like and mating him. Of course I think you should get to know him, you should be happy together, before making any permanent decisions. Unfortunately all the restrictions on alphas has made getting to know them casually almost impossible. It’s hard to say where to start.”

_There is no-_

“Rian Casterman.”

Luke swings his head around to look at her. “What?” He and Leia speak the word at the same time, her speaking with calm surprise, his coming out as a hoarse croak.

Kaydel must have only heard Leia, because she doesn’t turn to him. “I want to get to know Rian Casterman.”

In an instant every bit of excitement and hope and longing he has felt, however begrudgingly, dies inside him. It passes like a fleeting shadow leaving only the shame he feels for having these feelings in the first place. He was exceptionally thankful for the ventilation system at that moment, which was keeping his scent from Kaydel just as it was keeping her scent from him. He _should_ be happy for her, that she has someone she likes. He should-

“Luke? Is that the same Rian that was in Ben’s class?”

He clears his throat. “Yes.” His reply is automatic and hollow. _This is for the best_ , is all he can think to himself, his brain incapable of further complex thoughts.

If Leia notices that he’s off she doesn’t let it show. “How do you know Rian?”

“I interviewed him.”

Leia doesn’t miss a beat. “And where is he now?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s still at Redguard,” Kaydel says, naming one of the province’s larger prisons. “I still have access to the alpha inmate list… for my research. He was supposed to get out three months ago, but the last time I checked he was still there.” 

Leia gives her a empathetic smile. “I’ve heard that many alphas get their time... extended. Unfortunately, if he’s incarcerated it’s only going to complicate things. There’s absolutely no way that you can visit him in prison. If the guards ever suspected your designation you’d be reported instantly.” Leia continues asking questions about Rian, but at this point Luke starts blocking out what their saying. His inner alpha is pacing the inside of his head, gnashing at any thought of Kaydel with another alpha.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

As he stares at the wall again, he only distantly registers a bell that chimes in the background. 

_There is no ignorance, there is -_

“ _Luke_.” Leia’s voice cuts in.

“Mm, sorry.” His voice is half-dazed as he turns to them.

His sister is looking at him with a concerned look. “Nevermind. You’ve both had a long day, I’ll get the door.” And suddenly in a blur of tiny steps Leia is out the room’s side door, leaving Kaydel and Luke alone. Of course, Threepio would already be answering the door, but if it was Statura, he should be brought up to speed before joining them.

Luke turns to Kaydel to find her looking at him. It would be a natural point for him to find something to say, but his head is just swimming. He’s thankful when she speaks instead. “You’re sister seems really nice in person.” At least… until he starts wondering when her voice started to sound so sweet.

“Oh?” Casual. We’re acting casual. Luckily Kaydel doesn’t seem to notice how tightly he’s gripping his armrests.

“She’s always seems so tough-as-nails when she’s being interviewed on the news... she’s different in person.”

Talking about something other than Kaydel - despite talking to Kaydel - seems to help a bit. “Don’t get on her bad side. She can be just as tough in person when she needs to.”

She nods once and looks around the expensive room. 

He is trying, and failing, to come up with something else to say when their conversation is blessedly interrupted. 

“Excuse me, would anyone care for a beverage?” Leia must have sent Threepio in here - possibly to save Luke, possibly to get rid of Threepio. “I’m familiar with over three hundred different varieties of mix beverage and the wine cellar boasts-” 

“Ah, just club soda for me, Threepio. Thank-you.” While Threepio’s interruption is conveniently timed, it is still unwise to let him gain too much steam.

The thin man nods and turns expectantly to Kaydel. “Ah, same,” she chimes.

“And I’ll have my usual,” Leia requests as she re-enters the room with Statura in toe.

Luke’s inner alpha hadn’t minded Threepio’s presence, but it’s incensed with Statura’s - despite knowing that he’s a beta, happily married for years, father of one thanks to IVF technology. He is still a male, younger than Luke, and his proximity to Kaydel’s is much closer than Luke’s at the present.

 _Breathe_.

A second appraisal of the Statura helps to quiet Luke’s alpha side. While the other man was normally confident and direct, now he looks completely cowed. Leia had obviously told him. He has the look of someone who had failed in some sacred duty. Statura glances at Luke, sitting across the room, and turns a shade paler, then quickly looks back to Kaydel. “Kaydel…” His voice is apologetic.

Of course Kaydel just stands and smiles as if nothing at all was the matter. “Hi Dr. Statura.” 

Statura steps towards her hesitantly. He stares at Kaydel like she is some kind of holy apparition, one whose wrath he may deserve. 

Not all countries had adjusted well to the strong anti-alpha sentiment that shook the world after World War II. Statura’s family was originally from Japan, which previously had been ruled by long lineages of alphas. Some say that it had split the country’s spirit when the Allies insisted that the Emperor be displaced when Japan surrendered. Over many years of knowing Statura, Luke had learned that his family had been in service to one of the royal houses and had been forced to flee in the wake of the collapsing aristocracy. They had been so desperate to leave that they didn’t even speak up when immigration officials misspelled their family name. While most of the alpha studies faculty at UofT were respectful towards Luke, Statura’s interactions with Luke bordered on deference. But if Statura had been deferent to Luke, now, to Kaydel, he’s almost reverent. 

An awkward pause starts to sound in the room. 

“And a gin and tonic for the doctor, thank-you Threepio.” Leia was always good at handling moments like this. She then walks over to Luke, giving the other two some space.

Luke tries to focus on his sister, but he can’t tear his attention from the other conversation.

_Statura takes another step towards Kaydel, his eyes trained down slightly. “Kaydel... I am so sorry… I had no idea…”_

_Kaydel smiles. “What are you talking about? I-I’m really happy about... you know...” Kaydel re-takes her seat._

When Leia finally reaches Luke she pulls up short and just stares at him. While the ventilation system helps to keep ambient pheromone level to a minimum, it can’t stop someone from scenting you at close proximity, and for all that Leia is a beta, she still has a very good nose. “Oh hell,” she says to him in hushed tones. “I knew you were off before, but now you’re a mess.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

_Statura takes the seat across from Kaydel. “No - I mean - I’m glad your happy, but …” He raises his eyes to her face, his head is still slightly bowed. “… something could have happened to you.”_

_She laughs a bit._ “ _Yeah, but nothing did.”_

“There is no way you can drive her home tonight.”

He raises his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll call Artoo. He won’t mind.”

_Statura is on the edge of his seat. “I- fuck... if something had happened it would have been my fault. … Kaydel, you can’t do any more interviews.”_

_Kaydel seems to bristle slightly a little at this. “Well luckily those were my last ones.”_

“ _Okay good.”_

_Kaydel doesn’t seem impressed by Statura’s definition of “good”. Luke’s alpha smirks at the thought of Statura getting his head bitten off._

“Speaking of cars, I have another problem.”

“Oh?”

“Her scent’s all over mine.” Isn’t that a good thing?

Leia thinks a moment. “If we can’t get it out by the morning you can borrow one of mine for your trip home.”

“Thanks.” It would probably sound more genuine if he could break his gaze from the exchange across the room, but he can’t seem to do it.

“ _Kaydel, I don’t know what you want to do from here… with your masters… but if you need anything… you just need to let me know.”_

“ _Ah, well for the moment ... Luke had suggested that I should put off publishing my paper-”_

“ _Sure.”_

“ _But I do want to finish some time... I want to publish something.”_

“ _I’ll help you with whatever you need.” Again Luke noticed Kaydel’s irritation, which was completely missed by the other man._

It’s at that moment that Threepio returns. 

“Thank you Threepio.” Leia directs him to set the drinks by the couches before turning to Luke, her voice much lower. “If you plan to join us, you really need to clean yourself up.” And with that Leia leaves him to join Statura and Kaydel by the fireplace.

She was right. His scent was all over the place, which at the very least was feeding back into his own emotional state, making the situation worse. He quietly retreats to the first floor powder room. He turns on the fan, and undoes the top buttons on his shirt. A greying old man with a ruddy face stares back at him from the mirror. 

_Fuck_.

This shouldn’t be happening.

He pulls his cell out and sends a text: _Are you free to chat?_

He grabs his pill bottle from his pocket and dumps the remainder into his palm. He counts them and checks the dispensing date on the label; he seems to have the right number. He swears he took his pill this morning at breakfast with Leia. He carefully pours the pills back into the bottle and pockets it.

He grabs a facecloth, and washes his face, neck and wrists with soap and water, scrubbing away the worst of his scent. Calm. He needs to calm down or his scent will just keep advertising his inner distress. He rinses the facecloth and wipes his glands down again. 

His phone rings. “Amilyn?”

“Luke? Hi. How are you?”

“Hey, sorry to call you like this. I was wondering if you could see me tomorrow.”

The line is quiet for a moment; not surprising given that he just asked her to see him on a Sunday. “Sure. What time?”

“Is nine or ten too early?”

“I can do nine. Can you text me from the back door?”

“I can. Thank-you. See you.” 

“Bye.”

He pockets his phone.

He really should get back. He’s already left her too long alone with - 

_Fuck_. 

What the hell is wrong with him?

And why should he even care about Statura when she’s already found someone that she’s-

And why does _that_ even bother him. He closes his eyes. She’s _far_ too young and he’s _far_ too old and he really couldn’t do anything about it anyway so- _fuck_.

 _Breathe_. He scrubs his glands down one more time, slowly, this time repeating the mantra under his breath. He feels much more clear headed when he’s done.

When he rejoins them, he finds everyone seated by the fire, discussing Kaydel’s paper. The two women are on one couch, Statura on the other. Luke takes the seat across from his sister, both because it’s open and also so that he’s the furthest from Kaydel. _All the better not to smell you with, my dear,_ he quips, feeling much more like himself. Even when Kaydel smiles at his return it doesn’t completely undo him. Everything’s going to be fine.

So the four of them sit and sip their drinks and discuss what it would mean if the world had not one but two types of alphas in it. They try to look for how this information might benefit alphas, but on the whole they see it causing more harm than good: the designationist groups would come up with more backwards rhetoric to rile up their base, and there was a good chance that it would split the alpha community into two factions, with secondary alphas possibly trying to distance themselves from primary alphas. And, as Kaydel pointed out, it would be impossible to truly know who was a primary versus a secondary alpha. Of course this meant that society would probably continue on as it is, and secondary alphas would continue to present when perhaps they didn’t need to. 

Their only conclusion is that there is no easy answer. 

As they sit, reflecting, Statura turns to Kaydel. “S-so if you can’t publish any of this, you’re basically going to have to start your masters over again.” 

Kaydel stares at the table between them, which had become covered with copies of her graphs over their conversation. “What if I already had something else?”

Statura tries to hide his skepticism. “What do you have?”

Kaydel smiles. “I have first hand accounts from inmates on how the prison system may be systematically extending prison stays for alphas.”

Leia’s head snaps up. “You have what?” 

“From day one, I asked every alpha I interviewed about any in-house sanctions they accumulated.” she says triumphantly mirroring the grin spreading on Leia’s face.

“Shut the front door.” Leia wasn’t usually so casual with new people.

Statura’s eyebrows lift. “Ethics is not going to like that that wasn’t part of the original research proposal… but… I can smooth that over.”

Leia’s face is painted with a mischievous smile. “Kaydel I like you more and more every minute.”

Statura’s phone pings. “Ah, shit,” he mutters under his breath. 

“What is it?” Luke realizes that it’s the first thing he’s said in a long while. 

“Sounds like Emiko puking all over the place. I...” Startura’s torn loyalties are plain to everyone.

“You should get back to your family,” Luke says, a little firmer than he intends, and the other man only hesitates a moment before nodding.

Statura stands. “Kaydel, do you have TAing this week? Do you want me to get someone to cover for you?”

At the offer, her mouth drops into an “O” for a moment. “Oh, not until Tuesday. I think I’ll be fine.”

Luke’s hand goes white around his glass at the thought of Kaydel, by herself, in public.

“Well if you need anything, just email me, or text me, or drop by my office. I should be there most of Monday.”

Leia holds up a finger to interrupt. “Hang on. Before anyone goes there are rules to discuss. Mainly one big rule: no discussion about Kaydel’s designation over text or email. She’s a beta doing her masters, just like she was last week. Keep things generic. If you need to speak more openly use the phone or better yet just speak in person.”

Statura and Kaydel both nod. 

“Good. Thank-you for coming tonight Umeji.” Leia the politician stands, and shakes Statura’s hand in a polite move of dismissal. 

Statura nods again and turns to Kaydel. “Come see me this week... some time... if you can.”

“Okay.” Does she ever stop smiling?

Luke stands suddenly. “Here let me walk you out.” 

As he ushers the other man back to the front door, he hears Leia speaking again to Kaydel. “And you tell me what you have on prison sanctions.” His sister truly sounds hungry for whatever it was that Kaydel has. She had been trying to get that kind of information for years but had always being blocked by the wardens. 

Luke didn’t really _need_ to show Statura out. He had been to Leia’s house many times before and was well trusted, but it felt good to be escorting the other male out. Which was probably his alpha acting out. 

He takes a deep breath.

When they reach the door Statura’s voice breaks the silence. “Luke, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

For a brief moment Luke has the urge to put his hands around the man’s neck, but he picks an interesting floor tile to look at and the impulse passes. After spending almost three decades managing alpha teenagers, takes a lot for Luke to lose his cool. “You didn’t know.” From what Statura had told him, the man hadn’t even been sure if Kaydel was pro-alpha or not. 

“I know but so much could have gone wrong.”

 _No kidding._ “It’s fine.”

“Yeah but-”

“Do you want me to take that back?”

The other man stops rambling, takes a deep breath. “I’ll keep an eye on her, and I’ll be in touch with Leia.”

“Sounds good.”

Statura puts on his coat and departs. Luke bolts the door behind him with a satisfying _clunk_.

When Luke reenters the sitting room, Leia is listening to Kaydel with an almost predatory grin. 

“...Common tactics seem to include putting the alphas under stress when they are close to release: making them change cells, change prisons, overbunking, restricting meal portions. It’s all denied or convenient reasons are _provided._ Even yelling or swearing at a guard is enough to get you a sanction...” Kaydel continues on for a bit, but with each passing minute she seems to be leaning into the back of the couch a little more, her eyes getting heavier, until she yawns.

“I suppose it’s getting late.” Leia is at first smiling, but then becomes more serious. “Kaydel, before you go, can I ask you something? About your research?” 

Kaydel nods.

“If an alpha is six foot two and presented at eleven… are they probably a primary alpha?” 

Kaydel is quiet for a moment. “You’re asking about your son?” It was only barely a question. Luke realizes that she would have had access to Ben’s file at Alpha Services. And if she had followed Leia’s political work, as she said she did, she probably knew Ben’s name as well.

Leia nods.

The younger woman takes a large breath and looks away for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “The… research doesn’t really work that way. No one can say for sure if a given alpha is or isn’t anything.” She takes another deep breath. “You could probably come with statistical odds…” She trails off as she meets Leia’s level gaze. The older woman’s forehead is pinched with the kind of pain that only a parent can feel for their child. Kaydel breathes again and her shoulders relax. “Yes, he probably is.”

Leia holds herself still through this, her face schooled to mask any reaction. “Hmm. Thank you Kaydel.”

 _Another reason not to publish_. What if the answer had been different? Leia would then have to carry the guilt that maybe something could have been done to prevent Ben from being cursed as an alpha. Ben himself may also be tormented with the knowledge.

In the seriousness of the moment Kaydel tries to stifle another yawn. Luke’s alpha doesn’t miss how the motion accentuates the lines of her neck around her scent gland; he forces his eyes away.

Leia smiles. “As we were saying, it’s certainly late.” It truly wasn’t _that_ late, but Luke hasn’t forgotten that she was still recovering from her heat. “I’m happy for you to stay if you want to talk more, but sometime we should get you home.”

“Mmm.” Kaydel nods in sleepy agreement. “I don’t think I can keep my eyes open if I stay much longer.”

“Of course. My driver can give you a ride.”

Surprised, Kaydel looks at Luke. “Oh, I thought…”.

Luke forces the words out with an equally forced smile. “I hope that’s okay Kaydel. It’s been a long day for me and I have a long drive tomorrow. Artoo, will get you home safely.”

Kaydel nods, though she seems a little disappointed.

Leia pulls out her phone and sends a quick text. “He’ll be at the side door in a few minutes.”

The thought of her leaving so soon hits Luke right in the gut, which is probably why he then offers, “I’ll walk you out to him.” She brightens and his inner alpha preens. 

_Fuck._

Only because she’s leaving is he granting himself this discretion, or so he tells himself.

He ushers her back through the house to the side door, which of course means that he’s walking through her scent as he follows her, but it’s not too strong. They retrieve their coats and boots. The air outside is crisp and clean and snow is gently falling. They stand in the driveway waiting for Artoo to arrive. 

“Oh, in case Leia didn’t mention, Artoo doesn’t speak much.”

“Like… don’t be offended if he doesn’t make small talk?”

“He’s deaf. He has one of those cochlear implants and he can understand you as long as you speak clearly, but he’s self conscious about his voice, so he usually doesn’t speak.”

“Oh, okay.” They stand in the calm for a moment. “Are Artoo and the other guy allowed to know…”

“To know..?”

“About me.”

“Oh.” Right. “Umm yes. Artoo and Threepio are completely trustworthy. They’ve been with the family for a long time.”

She looks back at the house. “You said you grew up in foster care. I take it that Leia was adopted?”

Whereas in centuries past it was seen as a disadvantage to have a female child, after the world turned its back on alphas, having a male child was seen as the greater liability. Adoption agencies found it increasingly difficult to find homes for boys, even to the point of separating male/female siblings, a practice which would later be frowned on the Supreme Court.

He looks back too. The house would have cost a fortune when it was built, and it was still worth one today. “Mmm. Her father was the Canadian High Commissioner to Australia. He and his wife tried for a long time to have children but never could.” A problem common to many beta couples. “Leia was adopted shortly after our mother died. We didn’t know about each other. Her adoptive parents were killed in a plane crash when she was seventeen. She was sorting through paperwork with Threepio when she found her birth record: it, of course, noted our mother’s name and passing and mentioned a twin brother. So she tracked me down... even after she learned it was an alpha.” He smiles at this. “I was in my last year at the alpha school when she found me.”

Kaydel nods.

A black Mercedes SUV pulls up the looped driveway and stops in front of them.

Luke walks up to the vehicle and greets the driver. “Artoo, this is Kaydel,” he says spelling out her name in sign. “She lives on College Street.”

Artoo points at his GPS, which seems to have a route already loaded up, and signs back in the affirmative. Leia must have sent him the address already.

“Luke?” He freezes, then turns and Kaydel’s looking up at him. 

Luke isn’t very tall for an alpha, but if he’s short then Kaydel is _really_ short. Tiny. In need of- “Yes?”

“So... you’re going back to Yavingard tomorrow?”

“Yeah it’s a long drive; I have to leave in the morning.”

“When will I get to see you again?” 

If he focuses on breathing just right, it’s like he can keep his alpha trapped inside him, locked deep down. He shrugs. “I won’t be back to the city until some time in the summer. I still work over the summer break because some of the kids don’t go home…” Some of the kids don’t have parents that will take them back. “...but I usually take a few weeks off.”

She looks away thinking about this, then turns her eyes back to him. “Will you help Rian get out of prison?”

He doesn’t allow himself to breathe for a good five seconds before speaking. “I don’t know what I can do for him, but...” Gods her eyes are so hopeful. “...but, I’ll try.” Unbidden, the old Jedi saying springs to mind, _Do or do not, there is no try._

She goes from hopeful to gleeful in an instant. “Thank you.” 

He swallows. What did he just get himself into?

She stills and stumbles over her next words. “And… thank you… also, for… you know… today.” 

He has to clear his throat. “No problem.”

She looks to the vehicle and back to him. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.” And then she’s turning. Another minute and she’ll be in the car and down the road. He just needs to hold it together for one more minute.

Except it doesn’t go that way.

Like she’s in slow motion she stops and turns back to him, and suddenly she’s closing the distance between them and flinging her arms around him. And as soon as he sees what she is doing, his arms are rising up to wrap perfectly around her back, holding her to him, trying to match the pressure that she’s holding him with. For a moment that seems like infinite her head is resting on his shoulder and her scent is crashing into him and over him.

Within a few years of starting the research medication, Luke had stopped getting erections. And the problem with erectile dysfunction is that without at least a few periodic erections, a man, whether alpha or beta, will lose the ability to get erections permanently. Even if Luke went off his medication and started functioning more like an alpha in other ways, this one thing would never come back.

So at least while Kaydel hugs him, with big flakes of snow gently falling around them, at least he doesn’t embarrass himself.

But his lack of _reaction_ , doesn’t stop the embrace from affecting the rest of him. He tries to shut down how he feels, but he can’t; no mantra can save him from this. She feels amazing pressed against him, so small, like she’s meant to fit there. And her scent, now a hundred times stronger than at any other moment of the day, is causing his brain to blissfully overload.

He isn’t sure if it’s a short hug, or a awkwardly long hug, or a just perfect hug, but at some point he feels her letting go of him and he withdraws his arms to release her.

She’s smiling as she looks up at him again, and she softly says, “See you,” before she turns to go.

And even after he’s free of her his brain’s must still be misfiring because the only reply he is able to form and deliver is: “See you around, pup.”

In most other situations such a phrase would have been insulting. Full stop. Of course Luke says it on occasion at the school; the kids seem to like it - old phrases like that seem to bolster their self identity. But Kaydel isn’t one of his students; just yesterday she was a beta. Saying such a thing to a beta was just not done. Such an endearment would predictably have earned him a slap or a cuss or at least a lot of hard feelings, but instead of all those things she just glances back at him, smile beautifully re-doubled, before disappearing into the vehicle with dark tinted windows.

Artoo gives him a little wave before turning to the steering wheel. 

Luke waves, not to Artoo, but to Kaydel whom he can’t see through the tinted glass but some primal part of his brain tells him that she’s looking back at him. Whether it’s true he’ll never really know.

He watches the vehicle until it has disappeared from sight, and then stands there a good while longer, just staring after it - his brain trying to memorize the way she felt against him - before turning back to the house.

Leia is sitting at the breakfast nook when he enters.

He sits too, not even bothering to take his boots or coat off first. He rests his arm on the table, his face in his hand. 

He and Leia sit in silence until he can string together something intelligible. “I’m seeing Amilyn tomorrow.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Leia’s voice holds no judgement...

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Of course you didn’t.” … just compassion and sincerity. 

“Can we make… any other plans tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“Breakfast at seven? I’m seeing Amilyn at nine; I’ll probably leave for the school straight from her clinic.”

“Sounds good.”

“I…”, he just stares down the hall to the rest of the house. 

“It’s okay, Luke. Try to get some rest.”

He nods, thankful that Leia understands him so well. 

Leaving just his boots at the door he stops in the kitchen to get a garbage bag from under the kitchen sink. 

He retires to the guest room that Leia always puts him in. He spreads the garbage bag open on the floor. After emptying his pockets he strips off everything, placing the discarded clothes in the bag, including his coat.

He marches straight into the attached bathroom scrubs himself down several times with soap and shampoo in the shower.

He towels off and dresses in his pyjama pants. He moves the garbage bag into the hall. Whether Threepio dry cleans it, throws it out, or burns it he really doesn’t care. 

He lies in the guest bed and tries to sleep. 

Usually his medication helped with that. He’d felt tired, lazy, for the last thirty years. 

But not tonight. 

As he lays there his mind replays the moments of the day: her wave from across the coffee shop; her smile when he revealed his designation; her laughter when he revealed hers; her disappoint when Leia was announced that Artoo would drive her home; that she had hugged him; how she hugged him; how she felt against him; how she smelled; that she liked it when he called her ‘pup’. 

Over and over again these thoughts came to him as he lay staring at the ceiling.

He had spent thirty years turning away from this part of himself, and now, in one day, it was back, refusing to back down.

He was so fucked. 

No, he couldn’t think that way. This too would pass. 

It had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My libido** : ...  
>  **My libido** : ...  
>  **My libido** : ...  
>  **My libido** : What the hell are you thinking?  
>  **Me** : What?  
>  **My libido** : You need therapy.  
>  **Me** : You need therapy.  
>  **My libido** : You watched "Flight of Dragons" too many times as a child.  
>  **Me** : ...
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Rian opens his eyes and is greeted by the grey cinderblock wall of his cell.
>> 
>> He closes them again for a moment, trying to remember the figure from his dream, but it’s fading rapidly and he doesn’t want to fall back asleep. It’s not the first dream that she’s visited; he hopes it won’t be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Notes for Chapter 2:** I totally forgot to post with chapter 2 a mini-apology to Ken Leung, the actor who plays Statura. To the best of my knowledge Leung is not of Japanese decent, and I do apologize for bending his ethnicity. That paragraph about Japan was just too interesting to pass up, and I hope lends Statura's character an extra layer of complexity.
> 
>  **Notes for Chapter 3:** I'm sorry this is so short, but from this point forward consistent chapter lengths are going right out the window.
> 
> PS: You can come bug me on my crummy tumblr if you want: [darksideofme-reylo](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).
> 
> PPS: I love comments, so please let me know what you think so far.

**Sunday, 5:43am**

_Golden light filters down through the trees, making the surrounding green that much more vibrant. He’s running. He ducks a branch and keeps going. His breath comes hard but steady. The path is narrow but well worn. The ground before him slopes down suddenly; he lets his feet slide so as not to lose speed as he descends. He’s looking for something... or is it someone? The path bends left, then right, through the green. He sees the trees thinning ahead, the golden light promising to embrace him if he can break the tree line..._

_He runs through the golden light that filters through the trees. He ducks a branch and keeps going. He can feel the rhythm of his breathing. There’s a hill; he lets his feet slide over the rough terrain as he descends. It’s this way that he needs to go, down the narrow path. The trees thin out ahead of him. There’s a figure standing there, silhouetted against the golden light. If he can just reach her…_

_Spots of light shift past him as he runs through the forest. He ducks a branch and keeps going. He glides down the slope, dislodging tiny rocks as he goes, his arms flung out for balance. When he hits the bottom he starts running full tilt down the narrow path. She’s standing beyond the trees this time, sunlight dancing golden off her hair. She’s mostly obscured by the intervening branches, but he thinks he knows her._

_He feels the world starting to unhinge._

Rian opens his eyes and is greeted by the grey cinderblock wall of his cell. 

He closes them again for a moment, trying to remember the figure from his dream, but it’s fading rapidly and he doesn’t want to fall back asleep. It’s not the first dream that she’s visited; he hopes it won’t be the last. His dick also seems quite happy about her return.

He pushes the thin blankets off himself and quietly slips off the top bunk to the floor. He retrieves a small notebook from under his mattress. Turning to the most recent page he scratches out “21”, writes “20” beside it, and puts the notebook back. 

Then he starts his routine. 

_Fifty right arm push-ups. Fifty left arm push-ups._

Rian is five foot eleven, which, though taller than the average beta, is still shorter than the average alpha. And unfortunately when you’re stuck on a prison block with four dozen alphas, size does matter.

_Fifty right leg squats. Fifty left leg squats._

So Rian would wake up early and work out, trying to eek out any advantage he could. He has access to exercise equipment when they are on the yard, but that’s only for two hours a day, and the equipment is often monopolized by the larger alphas.

_Fifty crunches. Fifty mule kicks._

And there are a lot of larger alphas in prison. Whether they’re better at getting into prison, or worse at getting out, the system seems biased towards incarcerating large alphas. 

_Fifty burpees._

Gods he hates burpees. 

And being five foot eleven has another drawback...

“Get the FUCK up you FUCKing bitches and get in the FUCKing shower!”

...it means that he’s shorter than Guard Captain Phasma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My libido:** ...  
>  **My libido:** ...  
>  **My libido:** ...  
>  **My libido:** *clicks the refresh button*  
>  **My libido:** ...  
>  **My libido:** ...  
>  **My libido:** WHERE THE HELL IS THE REST OF IT???  
>  **Me:** ...  
>  **Me:** ...  
>  **Me:** It's... _coming_...  
>  **My libido:** ...
> 
> \---  
> Later:  
>  **Me:**  
>   
>  **My libido:** *jaw drop*
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Even thinking about her makes him want to stand up and go find her, to close the distance between them. He knew he couldn’t do that. He had obligations he couldn’t just walk away from; his students depended on him. And even if he could, he had _nothing_ to offer her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  ** _IshaRen on Chapter 2:_**  
>  _...I had a thought while reading this. It makes sense to me that alphas would very easily fixate on omegas in the way Luke is fixating/obsessing over Kaydel. And so there should be a word for that! Something with more Anglo-Saxon roots and not related to the Greek word alpha. I wish I had knowledge of Anglo-Saxon/Old English to come up with something like that...._  
>     
> Challenge accepted. Times two.  
>   
> And a **warning** for this chapter: there's a line or two about questioning whether it would be possible to live in certain unpleasant conditions for a prolonged period of time. It's right after the "Fear leads to anger..." line in case you want to skip over a bit. If you are struggling, please reach out to those around you.  
>   
> And please feel free to tell me what you think in the comments.  
>   
> 

**Sunday, 6:03am**

Luke lies in bed staring, at the ceiling.

He had awoken an hour or so ago to the feeling that something was missing, that he should be able to reach out and find it next to him. He hadn’t even opened his eyes when the events of the day before came crashing into him, and he cringed when he knew who he was missing.

He lies there, trying to get back to sleep, but after a while it’s clearly not going to happen, so he rises early, showers (again) and dresses.

He feels a pang when he sees that the bag of clothes - clothes carrying both his scent and _hers_ \- has been removed sometime during the night. _Good_ , he tells himself resolutely.

The house is quiet. He sneaks downstairs. He should just go to the kitchen and make some coffee, but he finds himself at the entrance to the sitting room. The morning light filtering through the sheer curtains on the large windows, casting the room in a golden glow. 

The past twenty-four hours feel completely unreal, and yet he knows they happened. She had been here. Right here in this room. In that seat.

He realizes that he’s crossed the room, staring at the couch where Kaydel had sat, and sudden he’s hit by the impulse to- no. _No_. He is _not_ going to smell the furniture. _Hell._ What is _wrong_ with him? He brings his hand to his brow and breathes deeply.

He feels like the fabled farm boy that wanders into the dark woods and falls under the scent-chantment of a beautiful fairy. 

_This can’t be happening._ It was all wrong. It was all too easy, too easy to lose himself this way. He lets his hands slide up against his face as his head bows forward. _This has to stop._ He opens his eyes. 

His train of thought comes to a stop when he sees something white peeking out from under the couch. He retrieves it and stands. It’s a piece of paper; he turns it over. It’s the graph from Kaydel’s research, the one with the rainbow dots. She must have missed it when she was gathering her things. He stares at it. 

His logical side knows that this is just an eight-and-a-half by eleven piece of paper with some ink on it, but his alpha sees something different. Kaydel made this. She collected the data, and fed it into some program, and did fancy calculations he doesn’t quite understand, and then printed it on this piece of paper, which she would have held in her hands. It may even carry her scent a little. It had been relatively easy to resist smelling the furniture - the logical side of him recognizing that that would look insane - but a piece of paper would be much easier to examine surreptitiously. What harm could trying-

“Ahh, good morning to you, sir.”

Luke whirls at the interruption, hiding the paper lamely behind his back.

If Threepio notices anything he doesn’t indicate so. “Would you like a beverage, sir? Perhaps coffee, tea, espresso, latte-”

“Coffee would be fine Threepio. Black. Thank you.”

Threepio gives a slight bow and hurries ahead to the kitchen.

Luke folds the paper, places it in his pocket and follows the other man down the hall. 

Luke had long since learned that Threepio becomes frantically fuddled if he tries to cook for himself, so he sits at the table and waits. A few minutes later he’s drinking coffee and a minute after that Leia enters and sits quietly with him. Soon she has coffee too and it’s not long before a hearty assortment of eggs and bacon and sausage are piled before them.

“Cedric?” she says to Threepio in a low, serious voice. “Could you check on Artoo? See how Luke’s car is coming?”

“At once ma’am.” The tall man seems thrilled at the prospect of such an important mission and hurries for his coat and boots. 

Normally Luke would have to fight to have to stifle his smile over such antics, but not today. Today he just stares into his coffee. 

Once the door closes he can feel Leia’s eyes on him. It’s a little while before she speaks. “Say ‘hi’ to Amilyn for me.”

He hums in acknowledgement as he skewers some sausage onto his plate.

Another pause. “Are you going to be okay to drive home?”

He shifts in his seat. “It should be fine.” _As long as I have a pheromone free vehicle._

She nods and waits before speaking again. “She’s very lucky she ran into you.”

 _Leaving her alone is a mistake._ Luke ignores his alpha and just grunts. 

“And I think you’re right. I think she’s very happy about it.”

He stomps down on the pride he feels welling inside his chest. He serves himself some eggs.

“And it seems that she wants our help.”

He swallows.

“So how are we going to help her?”

He knew where this was going. There were two parts to every ‘omega intervention’ that he and Leia staged... 

Part I: Keep them hidden; make sure they don’t register or get registered. Kaydel seemed to understand the importance of this; Leia was going to do some background checking on her roommate. This was pretty much handled.

Part II: Give them the tools they need to control their biology. She could take medication to suppress her heats, essentially forcing her body to function like a beta. She’d stop synthesizing omega pheromones. She’d be... safe… to a point. However…

_I want to get to know Rian Casterman._

His knife shrieks loudly against the plate as he puts far too much force behind his slice. He drops his knife and fork and sits back in his chair.

Leia remains still, calm. She’s was good at dealing with moody alphas; she had had a lot of practice.

Luke stares at his plate. He forces himself to slow his breathing. This was Kaydel’s decision he reminds himself. “She asked me to help get Rian out of prison.”

He could see Leia’s eyebrows rise in his peripheral vision. “Oh? And are you going to do that?” she says, a little skepticism creeping into her voice.

“Maybe.” He had told her he would, but his alpha would fight tooth and nail before just handing her to a rival. “As long as I think he’s good enough for her.”

Leia cocks her head. “Is that fair to her? You vetting Rian?” If she wasn’t dissecting his motives before she is now.

Luke pauses. He and Leia had an unspoken rule about not interfering with the choices of the omegas they found. He considers his words carefully. “If there is something off about him… I’ll bring it to Kaydel. She can decide.”

Leia nods at this, satisfied. “Do you remember him from the school?”

“A little.” Maybe more than a little.

“He hung out with Ben, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” And it suddenly hit him; Ben might have dirt on him. “I should ask Ben about him. I could drop in on the way home.”

Leia’s voice shifts to a flatter tone. “I’m not sure... that that’s the best idea.”

“I have time. It’s not that much of a detour.” He could feel himself being pulled along in the current of his alpha’s excitement.

“You know he doesn’t like unexpected guests.” She thinks this is a bad idea.

He pushes forward. “This is a special circumstance.”

“You and he butt heads at the best of time. Dropping in suddenly, especially when you’re off balance like this, is asking for trouble.”

“It’ll be fine. I got a handle on it. Ben will-”

But Leia cuts him off with firm even tones: “I think Ben is _busy_ this weekend.”

Oh. “Oh.” Well then that’s not going to work. For once both his alpha and his rational side were unimpressed over the same thing.

Leia sips her coffee. “Listen, I’ll visit Ben _next_ weekend. I assume you’re going to go through Rian’s file at the school.” 

Luke nods. 

“As long as he’s not a complete knothead we should move forward. I’ll arrange for you to have visitation privileges at Redguard; we can call it an outreach initiative. When you visit, find out how we can best help him.”

Reluctantly he nods and looks at his sister. Something in the set of her shoulders catches his attention; she’s holding something back. “What _else_ do you have planned?”

To which she just responds with a knowing smile.

* * *

A couple of hours later Luke is sitting in an exam room in the downtown office of Dr. Amilyn Holdo, MD/PhD. While Amilyn does omega research two days a week, the other three days are spent at her clinic - part family medicine, part trans-health, part alpha/omega health - the clients in the first two groups acting as the perfect cover for the clients in the third group.

Within minutes of arriving Amilyn had drawn his blood and zipped down the hall to put it on the analyser. When she returned she asked him to tell her what was going on. He told her about meeting Kaydel, scenting her, the intrusive thoughts. She mostly let him talk, only occasionally interjecting short questions. 

She wrote nothing down; officially, this visit wasn’t happening. 

For the most part he looks at the opposite wall rather than Amilyn. His feelings were embarrassing enough without having to tell anyone. At one point he asks how much detail he should go into.

“However much you want,” she responds sincerely. 

He tells her all the little details, about the pull he felt. At the end he feels drained, but also lighter somehow, as if by sharing what happened she can help him carry the load. 

He finally turns to her. “So what do you think?” For the first time he notices that her hairs is purple today. _Focus._

Her face is open, non-judgmental. “It sounds like... an alpha reacting to very normally to an omega.”

His alpha likes the sound of that. “Yes, but I shouldn’t be _reacting_ this way at all.”

She shrugs. “It seems that your biology has other ideas at the moment.”

His logical side does not find it very helpful. “Amilyn, she’s _half_ my age.”

Her tone is even, factual. “Your nose doesn’t know that. This kind of pherotropism is part of how our species got this far.” 

“Yeah and look at us now…” Critics of the anti-alpha movement had been pointing out for years that we had absolutely no idea what the long term effects would be to humanity if we kept stripping alphas out of society. Of course such criticism mostly fell on closed ears. 

She took a deep breath before continuing. “I just don’t want you to feel like this is your fault.”

He thinks for a moment before responding. “Well I do.” 

“Having feelings for this woman is different than taking actions in response to it. It doesn’t mean that you are some kind of monster. Being afraid of your feelings is only going to make you hate yourself.” At her words a memory flickers in Luke’s mind.

She looks over to where she had placed a timer and stops it. “I’ll be right back.”

Luke sits back in his chair. It only takes a moment for the memory to light and shine though his consciousness.

_Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering._

Well in that case he was truly fucked because he was terrified. If Amilyn couldn’t fix this, if it didn’t get better, he didn’t know how he was going to survive a life of pining away over…

He lets out a long breath.

Even thinking about her makes him want to stand up and go find her, to close the distance between them. He knew he couldn’t do that. He had obligations he couldn’t just walk away from; his students depended on him. And even if he could, he had _nothing_ to offer her. It was insane.

He is still lost in dark thoughts when Amilyn returns a few minutes later. When she walks in her eyebrows are drawn.

“What is it?”

“I think we have a culprit,” she says. “Your testosterone is up.” She hands him the print out. “It’s higher than it should be.” 

“What?” He knows his voice is a little too loud but he can’t help himself. “I swear I’m taking my medication.” 

“Do you have it with you? Can I see?”

He always carries it with him.

She inspects the bottle as he pours over the print out. “Hmm.”

“What is it?”

“I think your pharmacy has switched brands.”

“What?”

“There used to only be one supplier: Res-tech Pharmaceuticals. But last month First Order Pharmaceuticals came out with their own version at a lower price. Pharmacies are required to go with the cheapest option. See?” She points to the label.

She was right. His medication bottles had always been labeled ‘Res-alfaruptin’, but this bottle was ‘Fio-alfaruptin’. 

“So what does that mean?”

She shrugs. “It’s hard to say, but you may not be getting the same effect. They are supposed to be equivalent to within ten percent of each other, but sometimes they get it wrong. A different binding agent can sometimes affect the dose much more than intended.”

“So it’s my pills?”

“Possibly. Right now we have nothing else to go on. I’ll be right back.” She steps out of the room for a minute. 

He lets out a long breath. It was going to be okay. Maybe. But at least now he had hope.

Amilyn returns. “Here.” She hands him six bottles; he notes the Res-tech logo on the labels. “That’s enough to get you through the summer. Start by taking one today. If the pills are the problem you should notice a difference in a few days.” 

“If not?”

“Let me know.”

“Is there anything else I should do?”

When she looks at him, she has a sad look in her eyes. “Avoid further exposure.” She didn’t have to say to what.

His alpha raged at this. “I’m going back up to the school today anyway.”

“I think that’s all you can do.”

“Thanks Amilyn.” _Thanks for nothing_ , his alpha snarls.

He opens one of the new bottles and swallows one of the pills.

* * *

Outside the clinic, Luke gets into Leia’s Lexus. 

Despite Artoo’s efforts, he could still smell Kaydel’s scent in his own car this morning and so had taken Leia’s vehicle. Artoo had also kindly lent him a coat, which was nice since the weather had changed from snow to rain.

As he turns on the ignition it flashes through his mind how easy it would be to drive down to College St. He didn’t know Kaydel’s exact address, but he thought he knew which block she was on. If she’s lived at the same apartment for a few years it should be easy to pick up her scent… 

_No_. 

He pulls into traffic and picks his way towards the DVP. 

As he passes the turn off for Bayview Ave he’s reminded of driving Kaydel to Leia’s last night. _You could have taken her anywhere... she would have gone with you…_ He glances back at the turn off for a moment.

And has to slam the breaks when he turns back to see the car in front of him stopped in traffic. The Lexus screeches to a halt just in time. _I guess this is why they don’t let alphas drive_ , he thinks sarcastically. When the car in front of him starts again he sheepishly follows.

He needs a distraction. He turns on the radio and is not surprised to find it tuned to CBC; it’s one of the few stations that reported on alpha issues with relative neutrality. 

“ _... the U.S. president announced today that he will be releasing his lineage papers to affirm his claim that he is a third generation beta…_ ”

Great, because that’s exactly what the world needs. If only Leia was here so they could roll their eyes together. For every step that alphas took towards acceptance, it felt like certain groups were happy to shove them back two.

He cruises down the ramp onto the northbound DVP.

“ _... Police in Winnipeg are asking for the public’s help after a woman was abducted outside her apartment in what’s being called a brazen kidnapping. Melissa Katooni is described as five foot two with brown hair, blue eyes and olive skin. A neighbour says she saw Katooni being forced into a white van by two men wearing black ski masks. Persons with information are_ -” Luke turns the radio off.

The thought of women randomly being kidnapped from major urban centers does _not_ help his alpha feel better about driving farther away from Kaydel. He realizes that his hands are starting to cramp from how tight he’s gripping the steering wheel.

 _Breathe_.

It was going to help exactly no one if he kept falling apart over moments like this. In theory he just had to keep it together for a few more days and it _should_ get easier as his medication kicks back in.

Thankfully traffic becomes heavy enough that he’s forced to focus on picking lanes and turn offs, but once he’s cruising out of the city his mind wanders back to Kaydel. There’s dull ache sitting in the center of his heart; a feeling he’s had before. 

He tries thinking about all the things he needs to get caught up on at the school once he’s back, but images of her keep wandering back in. 

_I want to get to know Rian Casterman._

Part of Luke wishes that he didn’t know Rian, didn’t remember him from the school, but he does. 

Luke had always made it a point to get to know every alpha that came to Yavingard. He wanted to know how the kids were doing, that each kid had a good shot at surviving what would befall them when they left: sigma and isolation.

Rian had come to the school quite late compared to other students. It was shortly after he started grade eleven, whereas many of the kids had been at the school since around grade eight. The other kids had had time to size each other up, find their place in the pecking order. Rian, being a latecomer, was starting at the bottom.

Luke remembers meeting with him and his mother when he first came to the school. He had tried to put up a brave front, but it was obvious that he was nervous. Over the next few weeks, Luke watched as any shred of confidence that Rian had on his first day dissolved into nothing. 

Luke would get reports from his teachers that he wasn’t fitting in; his school performance was suffering because of it. His transfer records showed that he had been an A student; at Yavingard he was almost flunking some classes. 

It has worried Luke that Rian would never break the acceptance barrier, that he would spend the rest of his time at the school as an outcast among outcasts.

And then, one day, it all changed.

The school had strict rules about what the kids were allowed to do and not do, especially when it came to gym class. No contact sports, no martial arts. Of course the kids were always testing the rules, seeing how far they could be bent, pushing how much they could get away with. 

Early that December, Ben had come to Luke asking if they could do archery. Luke had no idea how this had gotten into his nephew’s head, probably some new movie or something. He could see how it would appeal to a bunch of teen alphas; it was violent, a weapon, even if ranged weapons were not commonly preferred by alphas. Luke pointed out that some might define archery as a martial art, but Ben was adamant. “It’s not a contact sport. It’s not on the restricted list; I checked.” He had even convinced Leia to buy a set of bows and targets for the school if Luke said ‘yes’. How could Luke say ‘no’?

The equipment arrived in January. Luke worked closely with the phys ed teacher to develop the safety protocols, which was good because the first day that Ben’s class was supposed to have an archery class, the teacher called in sick, forcing Luke to step in.

They spent the first bit of class setting up the targets and going over the safety rule. Luke made it very clear that if anyone got hurt, or almost hurt, or if anyone shot an arrow while someone was down range that all the equipment was going to disappear permanently. No exceptions.

Of course Luke had no idea how to fire a bow properly, but he figured at this point the kids could try playing around with them. 

The class was divided into three lines. The student at the front of each line would get to shoot and when all three were out of arrows they would go retrieve them for the next student. 

Ben, of course, was first in his line. And way at the end was Rian, bottom of the pecking order.

Luke just watched from side, making sure that all the kids were done shooting before anyone walked down range. Which was really important because everyone was terrible at it. On that first round, Ben didn’t even hit the target with a single arrow and neither did the other two students. 

For a moment Ben had had a furious look in his eyes, but commendably he kept himself in check, and he seemed to ease up when it became clear that everyone else was equally terrible.

It became quickly obvious that they were way too far back, but Luke figured he’d let the class cycle through once before moving them closer.

Smack talk was traded back and forth between the students that had gone and those that were still waiting. The whole process was very slow because with the class being full of alphas every arrow drawn had to be fiddled with and adjusted and then the bow aimed in a vain attempt to out shoot the competition. Midway through, the kids in the far group cheered when one of them _glanced_ the edge of the target. 

Finally they made it to the end of the lines, at which point it was Rian’s turn. 

Rian had stood very still as he waited in line, but the moment the kid in front of him handed him the bow, something changed. His whole body seemed to relax. He looked taller with his head up and shoulders no longer hunched forward. As he waited for the other student to retrieve the arrows he gave the bow a single test pull and eased it back to rest. Whereas the other students looked awkward and bumbling, Rian’s movement looked practiced, powerful. He looked like a weapon. He looked like an alpha.

Rian took quiver of arrows from the other student as Luke watched.

And then he shot.

By the time the second arrow thwacked into the target, most of the students had stopped talking, and by the time the third arrow hit the entire group was still and silent. Even the kids that were supposed to be shooting had stopped.

The shots came rhythmically one after the other, every twang of the bow echoed by a thunk of the target. And then suddenly it was over because he only had six arrows. The reverberations in the room died out and Rian turned back to his line, unflinching under the stares of his classmates.

Casually he offered the bow to Ben who, of course, was next in line again, but Ben, always first to bend the rules to his purpose, just looked at him and asked, “Can you do that again?” 

The corner of Rian’s mouth had quirked up. “Yeah sure,” he replied, like it was no big deal.

And that was it. He was in.

It turned out that Rian had been an avid marksman for years, shooting with both rifles and bows. He had won competitions. He was even being groomed for olympic biathlon prior to presenting. Of course guns were now off limits for him, but that didn’t matter to the other students. On that day he was hands down better than every other alpha in the room at something that was pretty damn cool. 

He was instantly accepted as a part of Ben’s group; he hung out with them every day after. He was still quieter than the rest, but he had a place in the pack. 

And now, over a decade later, he was in prison. 

Of course that really didn’t say much about Rian. Most incarcerated alphas were there on trumped up infractions.

The truth was, Luke has always liked Rian; he was thoughtful, polite, smart. Perhaps he had liked Rian because he had reminded Luke of… well… Luke. 

If Luke had failed to mention these things to Leia, it was was his alpha stubbornly unwilling to give his rival an edge.

Luke shakes his head at himself. _Rival? Ridiculous._

This whole thing is ridiculous.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My insecurity:** Do you think they liked the new words?  
>  **Me:** I don't know. They were okay. Neither was an earth-shattering neologism.  
>  **My insecurity:** You think they were bad?  
>  **Me:** I think they were fine.  
>  **My insecurity:** But...  
>  **Me:** And next week we can come up with words for the anxiety provoked by writing fan fiction.  
>  **My insecurity:** But...
> 
> * * *
> 
> In case you missed them the words were:  
>  **scent-chantment** : which is a play off of enchantment, and  
>  **pherotropism** : with 'phero' coming from pheromone and tropism being "the turning of all or part of an organism in a particular direction in response to an external stimulus" (quite different from the normal tropes on AO3).
> 
> I also had a lot of fun coming up with **alfaruptin**. 'Alfa' for alpha, 'rupt' from 'interrupt', and 'in' just as a common sounding ending to a drug name (which is a total cop-out, because generic drug names should have endings based on the class of the medication *shrug*).
> 
> A side note about Luke's fictitious drug: I obviously didn't really think certain things through when I wrote chapter 1 and talked about the medication tanking his testosterone, because I'm _not_ envisioning Luke suffering from many of the expected side effects of an anti-androgen (decreased facial hair, fat redistribution, gynecomastia). As mentioned in the fic, Luke does suffer from at least one side effect, but this would normally be less common than the others. Anyway, I'm glossing over this incongruity with my writer's privilege and moving on.
> 
> PS: Luke is not having a heart attack; he's just broken-hearted.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > It had seemed so simple. She was a beta who’d spent her life secretly loving all things alpha, so why wouldn’t she develop a giant crush on the first young, handsome, unattached alpha that she actually met in person. It had made total sense at the time.
>> 
>> And now it made more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  So being an omega is, like, glamorous, right? Right?  
>   
> 

**Sunday, 11:14am**

When Kaydel wakes, she can hear water flowing in the gutters. It was raining, hard. Which was different. Yesterday it hadn’t been raining. Yesterday...

Kaydel sits bolt upright. Yesterday she had met Skywalker and- “Holy shit.”

She remembers the moment he told her. She had been thunderstruck with... happiness? That was the only way she could describe the glowing, buzzing, warm feeling in her chest that had left her laughing hysterically for a minute or so. She had known instantly that he was right and suddenly everything in her life made sense. She smiles as she thinks of it. 

And she would have stayed right there in her bed, basking in that happy feeling all over again… except that in sitting up she realizes that her period has started. 

“Shit.” 

Wearing an oversized shirt that she hadn’t given back to a guy she hooked up with once, she grabs some new underwear from her dresser and makes a break for the bathroom.

Her period has started all right. Like rivers of blood, gushing in concert with the gutters outside.

 _Holy hell_.

The only other time she had had a period this heavy had been… six months ago… 

Oh... right...

Yeah, it all made sense now. 

She inserts a tampon, and puts a heavy pad (bought six months ago) in her fresh underwear. She washes most of the blood out of her old underwear with soap and cold water.

She sneaks back down the hall to her room. When she gets there she groans at the blood on her sheets. But it’s fine. She can handle this. Considering the weather it’s the perfect day to stay in and do laundry.

Her stomach grumbles. She’s really hungry, but she wants to get the laundry on first.

She throws on jeans and a tank top and hauls her sheets to the bathroom to try to get most of the blood out. Then she bundles up her laundry and heads down to the building’s basement.

When she comes back up Luscia is sitting on the couch, drinking coffee, looking at her laptop.

 _Be cool_ , she tells herself. “Hey.”

“Hey. Big news.”

And Kaydel freezes like a startled doe. “What?”

“I got that job I applied for,” her roommate smiles.

 _Oh holy f-_ “Oh, that’s great,” she enthusiastically covers. “Where is it?” Kaydel moves into the kitchen area, partly to find food, partly so Lusica can’t see her face.

“First Order Biotech.” 

“Oh.” Kaydel’s tone goes flat. First Order Biotech was the biosciences branch of First Order Multinational, a company that did nothing to hide it’s anti-alpha leaning.

“Oh, come on... Can’t you be happy for me?”

“Did you forget that they’re designation-ist assholes?” She and Lusica used to both groan whenever they would catch ads like ‘assess your son’s risk of presenting with this simple mail in kit’, or better yet, ‘what is you and your partner’s risk of having an alpha male child?’

“No, but I’m _broke_ and their starting pay is really good.”

“Well at least your selling your soul at a good price.” Kaydel’s voice dips with sarcasm.

Lusica gives her a pleading look.

“Okay fine. I am very happy that you have a job. But when you learn all of their evil plans I fully expect you to take them down from the inside.”

“Oh totally. I’m all about stopping their x-ray crystallography-powered death ray.” Lusica had the best deadpan.

Kaydel’s foul mood breaks at that; she smiles and her friend smiles back. Yeah, Lusica working at First Order wasn’t the end of the world, but… suddenly... Kaydel doesn’t feel as eager to tell her about… well any of it really...

She turns to the cupboard to look for cereal. “So, when are you going to start?” She knows that Luscia is close to wrapping up her biochem masters.

“Probably in July... depending. They’re being very flexible about the start date.”

An uncomfortable thought strikes Kaydel. “So are you moving to Montreal?” The idea of having to find a new roommate was kind of horrifying.

“No, no, that’s their pharmaceutical plant. They’re opening a biotech lab in Scarborough.”

“Oh, cool. I guess.” Well at least she wasn’t totally losing her best friend to an evil corporation. She grabs a bowl and spoon.

“So how did things go with the alpha school guy? What did he have to say about your paper?”

Kaydel turns away to pour her cereal and milk. “Ah, there are some issues. I may have to push back submitting it.”

“What?” Lusica had known how excited Kaydel had been to finally be submitting. “I thought Statura had given you the green light.”

“I - It’s going to be okay. Hopefully, I won’t be set back too long. I’d rather get it right. I’m totally fine with it.” Though she doesn’t mention that she will be totally scrapping most of the last eighteen months worth of work.

“Hm. If you say so.” 

Kaydel brings her cereal back to her room, closing the door behind her. She puts a new fitted sheet on her bed before sitting on it and proceeding to eat her cereal. 

In her best dungeon master’s tone, she thinks, _The crazy old wizard says, “You’re an omega.” What do you do?_

 _Yeah, what_ do _you do when you have no idea what you’re doing?_

By the time Kaydel was born, alphas were almost completely segregated from betas; unbonded alphas weren’t even allowed to live in most larger cities. She had no a/o family members. The alphas she’d interviewed had been the first she had seen in real life. Luke had been the first one she had touched. 

And now she was supposed to be a part of that world, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. 

She had questions - like a million of them - thought up while she was doing her laundry. But it wasn’t like she could go online and start asking around. Leia had made one thing clear to her: don’t get registered. Maybe at some point she’d ask Luke, but for now... 

Her eyes cast around the room, landing on her bookshelf. 

_You science the shit out of it._

In a flash she’s up, grabbing her old a/o biochem binder and settling back down on her bed. For the next hour or so she sits, skimming through her notes and by the end of it she feels… worse. 

It’s all right there, written in at least three different colours of ink on every page:

How certain hormone spikes during a heat induce its various symptoms - which she had neatly listed in the margin of her page: fever, gland tenderness, moodiness, nesting… Kaydel remembers now how she had spent most of last week wrapped up in her duvet;

That heats are best triggered by exposure to alpha pheromones;

That heats typically come every six months, though intervals can be highly irregular.

She had had all the clues handed to her and she hadn’t seen them. At a certain point she just stops reading, eye gazing at her binder but thoughts tumbling inward.

 _I am_ so _stup-_

A gentle knock makes her heart jump and she claps the binder closed with both hands. Lusica opens the door half way; she dressed a black raincoat. “Hey I’m going for pizza with Peera. Do you want to come?”

Kaydel opens her mouth to answer, but she’s hit with the tiny breeze from the opened door and on that wafting air is a warm scent that softly whispers: _It’s okay._

 _What?_ “What?”

“Do you want to come for pizza?”

Kaydel blinks. “Ah, no, I’m cool, thanks.”

“‘Kay, later.”

Kaydel holds herself still as she listens to Lusica walk down the hall, put on her boots, and lock the door behind her.

She’s up a moment later, staring at the open space before her. It’s crazy, it feels crazy what she’s about to do, but she can’t help herself. She steps forward and lightly sniffs the air between her and the door. And there it is, faintly. Her eyes close and she sniffs again to revel the scent. 

_What is that?_

She sniffs again, this time taking a step towards the door. She can’t quite believe she’s doing this; an omega sniffing for some mysterious scent was often how bad a/o porn started - the fake stuff that was usually overacted to the point of satire.

But she _needs_ to find this scent. So now, at the door, she sheepishly sniffs again - _warmer_.

She walks a few steps down the hall - _warmer_.

She peeks her head in the bathroom - _colder_.

The hall again - _warmer_.

Lusica’s room - _cold_.

The hall closet - _cold_.

She enters the combined kitchen / common room. The scent is here but it’s _everywhere_ because there’s a ceiling fan moving the air around. She turns it off, and the air currents start to slow down. She starts making her way around the kitchen. It’s all cold, cold, cold until she gets to the front door - _warmer_. 

She looks at the door, but the thought of doing this outside of her home has alarm bells going off inside her. She can’t decide if she should or not; an anxious feeling starts to rise in the pit of her stomach. Don’t get caught. Leia had made that clear. Her feet take her past the door to stand beside the coat closet and- _oh, warmer._

She flings open the door and - _hot_ \- the scent hits her full in the face. 

_It’s okay._

Her hand goes automatically to her coat, pulling it out and she smothers her face in it.

 _Luke_.

It was Luke’s scent, and it’s like some part of her brain has lit up for the first time.

She had hugged him and now his scent was all over her coat, and, oh, it feels so _good_. It was like he was right there, holding her, soothing away her insecurity. _It’s going to be okay,_ the scent said.

At first her breaths are ragged and deep, but soon they’re almost normal again. She pulls away from her coat just enough to dislodge the coathanger that is still attached to it.

She closes the closet door and marches straight back to her room, coat pressed up under her nose.

She shuts her door and crawls onto her bed, face still buried in her coat. The smell is like a warm, reassuring blanket. She thinks she could lie like this all day. 

And then through the foggy comfort, something occurs to her: Luke’s scent hadn’t affected her last night. She had been close enough to smell him, especially when she hugged him. She had registered that _this_ was his scent, but it hadn’t affected her like _this_.

 _The scent didn’t affect me._

Why was that familiar? 

_The scent didn’t affect me. The scent didn’t affect the omega. The omega was insensitive to the scent. Insensitive to pheromones._

_That’s it!_

_‘Transient pheromone-insensitivity following non-conceiving heats in unbonded omegas’!_

It was a Holdo paper from the biochem course! She grabbed her binder and flipped back to the print out of the article.

The study, which boasted a whooping n of 5, showed that unbonded omegas couldn’t distinguish alpha pheromones from beta pheromones for a twelve to twenty-four hour period at the end of their heat, preceding menstruation. The study subjects were all unbonded, registered omegas who had agreed to have an induced heat. They were even unable to distinguish the alpha pheromones that were used to induce their heat.

She skims the paper’s conclusion. 

“... _This may represent an evolutionary mechanism to allow females the opportunity to leave their partners in cases of male sterility. Further study is needed to see how bonding affects this phenomenon. …”_

Yesterday she had been finishing her heat - wow, that still sounds so weird - and she hadn’t noticed Luke’s scent, but _now_ … she takes another deep breath with her nose buried into the outside of the jacket.

She wonders if all alphas smell like this; betas certainly don’t. 

She wonders if…

Kaydel gets off her bed and walks to the closet, putting the coat as she goes. Inside are stacks of bankers boxes filled with her research files. The boxes are well labeled. She knows the one she wants, finds it and then finds the file she wants inside. 

_Casterman, Rian_.

She flips the file open and his picture stares back at her. It’s a mugshot, so his face is serious but she think he looks handsome in that rugged, scruffy way.

It’s not the first time that she’d pulled his file just to look at his picture. She’d spent a good chunk of the last six months mooning over it. It had seemed so simple. She was a beta who’d spent her life secretly loving all things alpha, so why wouldn’t she develop a giant crush on the first young, handsome, unattached alpha that she actually met in person. It had made total sense at the time. 

And now it made more.

She takes the photo, puts back the file and stacks the box back in her closet.

She takes the coat off again and lies down beside it so she can put her nose up to the fabric again. She wonders if this is what Rian smells like. She lies there for a long time, just staring at his photo. Eventually she shivers so she pulls her duvet off the floor and onto her, which only helps to corral the scent around her.

For the first time in a long time, Kaydel feels like everything really, truly is going to be okay.

So what if she hadn’t realized that she was an omega? She knew _now_. 

_And_ she had someone that she was interested in, albeit he was in prison. And she she barely knew him. And he really didn’t know her. And she absolutely could not go and see him. But… 

_It was going to be okay_ , she thought. Or was it Luke’s scent telling her that? She wasn’t really sure but the distinction didn’t seem important at the moment.

‘Cause, it was going to be okay. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My libido:** What is she doing?  
>  **Me:** What?  
>  **My libido:** I'm not sure that this is a good idea.  
>  **Me:** What?  
>  **My libido:** Nothing good can come out of this.  
>  **Me:** What?  
>  **My libido:** YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.  
>  **Me:** ...  
>  **Me:** What?
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > But Rian is not a bolder alpha. There is still some part of him, deep down, that was scared shitless of this place.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tell myself that I love prison shows and prison movies ... but seriously who doesn't? 
> 
> I actually don't know how prisons really work (especially in Canada); everything here is cobbled together from fictional sources and online FAQs, and then cemented together with a little... eww, umm... never mind... And I'm sure that some things are unrealistic, but then just remember that the betas that run the prison don't really care if the alphas get hurt etc.
> 
> Anyway, as requested, we finally get a better look at Rian's world (you guys were right, we totally needed more of him).
> 
>  **Mini warning:** So sometimes bad things happen to people in prisons; there is going to be some discussion about some of that. But nothing graphic or direct today.

**Sunday, 12:58pm**

At the Redguard Correctional Institute all inmates - alpha or beta - have to work.

There are four tiers of wages depending on what type of job they have. 

There are only a few top tier jobs, for example managing the commissary or the kitchen. The only alpha with a top tier job was Sidon, a tall, lithe, angular alpha, who managed the janitorial and maintenance workers on the alpha side of the prison.

On the second tier are jobs like _working_ the commissary or the kitchen, the library or the learning center. Essentially all these jobs were all held by betas.

Janitorial and maintenance compromised the third tier of jobs. Of course, alphas and betas only worked on their respective sides of the prison; alpha inmates were kept segregated from the beta inmates at all times. There were many different jobs on the third tier: plumbing, electrical, cleaning the cafeteria, mopping halls, et cetera. The least coveted of these jobs - especially on the alpha side - was cleaning the bathrooms.

During his entire stay at Redguard, Rian has worked in the janitorial restroom division.

Cleaning the bathrooms on the beta side of the prison would be a dream job compared to the alpha side, because when you take nearly fifty alphas and force them to live in a confined space displays of territorial behavior tends to go through the roof, and this is not infrequently expressed in the form of bodily fluids. Literal pissing contests were not unheard of. 

When showering, the polite inmates may aim for the little drainage trench that runs at the edge of the wall. But the more aggressive inmates tend to aim _at_ the wall. And, yes, that goes for both of the bodily fluids that one might think of in this circumstance.

Of course the real messes would come if someone hit a rut unexpectedly. Once an alpha got too deep into a rut, if there were still people around him, events had a good change of turning violent, physical or otherwise. But it usually wouldn’t come to that. If the affected alpha didn’t realize he was in rut, usually another inmate would, and then the alpha would be transferred to solitary confinement. But sometimes ruts hit fast, and suddenly the alpha standing next to you could turn into a raging ball of testosterone-driven aggression, and the showers just happened to be the most common place for that to happen. 

So blood was another bodily fluid that Rian occasionally had to clean up. 

Of course Rian wasn’t the only alpha on bathroom duty. There were always two alphas listed for that position. However while the other alphas rotated in and out of the other position, Rian seemed permanently stuck in his.

As Rian gives the bathroom floor a final mop back towards the entrance, he thinks of his tiny house at the edge of his parent’s property, with his own bed and couch and toilet and shower. He thinks of the acres of swampy forest that his house backs on to, where he can go for walks and take a piss wherever he wants. Keeping his house clean had never been one of his priorities in the past, but he would keep it spotless for the rest of his life if it meant he could get out of this hell hole. He would consider doing a lot of things to get out of Redguard.

Rian stows his mop in the janitorial closet. Lunch will be starting about now. He swings by the cafeteria but fails to find who he’s looking, so he heads towards the infirmary. 

* * *

The first time Rian met his cellmate he had been fucking terrified. 

It was his first day at Redguard. His mom had come with him of course, to drop him off. He had had to say his goodbyes to her almost immediately after arrival.

He had had to hand over all of his clothing, and was given orange scrubs to wear. Of course he still got to wear his tracker; they said it deterred escape attempts.

But the thing that really got to him that day was the smell. When he was at the alpha school he had thought that the smell was pretty bad, but at Redguard it was a hundred times worse. It wasn’t just the number of alphas per cubic meter of circulating air that was the problem; it was story that that scent told. There was less freedom here and alphas didn’t like being caged. The scent spoke of frustration and anger; it was just layer after layer of negative emotions that fed back on themselves. 

Rian could smell it from the moment he walked in the door, and every step he took deeper into the prison heightened the concentration. Even before they got to the cell block Rian could feel the hairs on his neck sticking straight up. He had had the urge to run, but it simply wasn’t an option; he was cuffed at the wrists and ankles and was accompanied by four guards carrying stun batons. His only option was to keep moving forward.

The alpha cell block was a huge, four-story room in the older part of the prison. It held twenty-four cells, half on one side, half on the other, split evenly between an upper and lower level. There was a catwalk too, for the guards to watch over everything. 

Light fed into the cell block from the tall windows in the adjacent hall, filtered, of course, through the wall of bars separating the two spaces. Rian stood in the hall a moment while one of the guards unlocked the barred door, his ears being assaulted by the din of the alpha inmates for the first time. The door swung open and he was ushered inside.

Rian’s cell was on the first row. When he and the guards came abreast of it, he could see a large hulking shape within; the other alpha was sitting, facing the wall, half obscured by the bunks that were bolted in place. Even seated, the alpha’s form seemed to dominate the small space. 

The guards removed Rian’s cuffs and opened the cell door, prompting him to enter when he hesitated. Rian stepped in just enough so that they could close the door behind him. 

He’s not sure what he would have done with his hands had he not been carrying sheets and a spare set of scrubs. 

It felt like he just stood inside the door for forever, not really sure how to proceed. Technically half of this cell was his now, but it didn’t feel that way. 

He was about to say something when the hulking shape raised a finger to signal for quiet. Rian could make out a table tucked behind the bunks; the other alpha was... writing something? The figure then half stood and Rian got a better sense of his cellmate’s size - though he still couldn’t see the other alpha’s face. Simply put, he was taller than Rian and bigger than Rian.

Rian stood rooted to the spot in one of the longest moments of his life, sweat trickling on his brow. And then the alpha finished what he was doing, stood fully and turned to him.

“Heeey, you must be the new guy, nice to meet ya, I’m Ziff.” Rian still can’t quite remember what he had been expecting, but it had not been the young face, or the smiling face, or the mop of curly hair that his cellmate had. “Hey, ah, so.. name?” Ziff pointed at him.

“Rian.” At that point Rian was close to pissing himself in relief.

“Rian right. So a couple rules. One: beds.” He pointed at the bottom bunk... “I’m already here.” ...and then the top bunk... “And I don’t do top bunks.” ...and looked expectantly at Rian.

Rian shrugged. “Ah, that’s fine.” 

“Coool. Number two: desks.” Ziff took a step back so that the desk where he had been sitting, and another opposite it, were more obvious. “Like... we’re each supposed to have one but…” But it seemed that both desks were piled high with… stacks of paper? “...well like I kinda need both. For my work. Sooooo...”

Rian shrugged again. “That’s cool.” _Yeah, just be cool._

Ziff’s face lit up. “Great, hey I think we’re going to get along just fine.” Ziff then looked at Rian with pinched eyes. “Hey, how old are you?”

Rian of course was still just standing at the entrance to the cell holding his things. “Ah, twenty-five.” 

“Ooohh I remember you. You were the archery guy right?”

“Ah,” And at this Rian feels like he can actually relax a bit. “Yeah?” He walks in and places his linens on the top bunk. 

“I was in my last year at the school when you pulled that stunt. Well anyway, welcome to hell.”

* * *

Rian makes his last turn through the maze of corridors. The security checkpoint to the infirmary is at the end of the hall, but that’s not his destination. Instead Rian stops at a door only half way down the hall. Through the frosted security glass he can see a hulking shape within. He knocks.

A muffled, “Yeah?” comes from inside.

He opens the door half way and leans inside. “Hey, it’s after one. You coming for lunch?”

“Yeah, give me two minutes.” Ziff sits behind a shirtless alpha, wearing gloves and tapping a needle over the other alpha’s shoulder blade. “Can you pack up my shit?”

Rian can’t see the other alpha’s face but from the sheer hairiness of his back, Rian figures it’s Lak. If there was ever an alpha that fit the burley, wolf-man stereotype that some betas seem cling to, it was Lak. 

Rian enters and quickly packs up Ziff’s pencils and sketchbooks. Curious about the tattoo, Rian walks over to Ziff and Lak but before he gets there Ziff gives him a silent “shh”. When Rian peers at the tattoo he sees why. The tattoo is a simple black silhouette... of howling wolf on a hill. 

“How does it look?” Lak’s voice is like gravel sloshing over razor blades.

Somehow Rian keeps his voice straight, “Great. That’s really nice. Good lines.” Well, at least the last statement was true.

Lak grunts in a pleased sort of way.

Rian turns so he can prep an appropriately sized bandage.

Four minutes later Ziff declares, “And that’s... done.” He wipes the area with a clean gauze. He only has one mirror, so Lak will have to wait until his next visit to the barber shop to see it. Ziff pats the area dry and Rian hands him the bandage. “Come find me in two weeks so I can see if it needs touching up. You can let Hill know about payment.”

The fourth tier of wages was comprised of ‘no-show’ jobs. On paper the inmates were doing ‘arts and crafts’ or some equally pointless activity, but they didn’t actually have to do or make anything, just show up and sign an attendance form. Ziff had a no-show job, which suited him perfectly because his main source of income wasn’t his wages; it was the other inmates.

Ziff had always had an artistic streak and he had worked hard to develop it. He drew every day; since coming to Redguard he often drew for hours a day. He had two main products: tattoos - something he picked up after coming to Redguard - and porn sketches.

Lak puts his shirt on, grunts his thanks one last time and leaves.

Once he’s well down the hall Rian turns to Ziff. “Seriously?” 

Ziff is already gesturing with open hands. “Hey, that’s what he wanted, okay?” 

“I know but isn’t that going to be… counterproductive for him?” _Not to mention the rest of us._

Ziff places the bloodied needle in the metal basin beside him. He brings it over to a tiny sliding door in the wall connected to the infirmary and knocks. 

“Hey, I’m not here to be his mother.”

After a few moments they can hear the sound of a metal lock sliding. The door slides open to reveal an enclosed plexiglass box, the curvy torso of one of the medical personnel can be seen on the other side of the far wall. Ziff slide in the basin holding the needle. “We all good?”

“ _Looks good inmate_ ,” replies a muffled female voice.

Ziff slides the door shut and the lock engages again. “So do you, babe,” he says to the door.

The doctor that ran the infirmary was very big on preventing the spread of communicable diseases, so she allowed Ziff to sign out a single needle at a time to do his tattoo sessions. So far there had been no problems with the system. A needle made a crummy shank compared to other items that inmates could get, and tattoos were incredibly popular among the alpha inmates. Everyone agreed that being able to get clean tattoos was highly preferable, so no one had ever tried to take it.

When Ziff turns back to Rian, Rian is still shaking his head over the tattoo. “Come on, let’s go get lunch.”

Once at the cafeteria they line up behind the other alpha inmates; Ziff first, Rian second.

The same cafeteria served both the alpha and beta side of the prison on different shifts. Of course the prison management had deemed that betas would take the first shift at breakfast, lunch and supper; alphas always ate their meals second. It’s was just how the scheduling worked out, so management would say; of course it had nothing to do with alphas being first for the last several thousand years. It also meant that if the food was running out, it was the alphas that would get short changed.

Rian glances towards the doors where a squad of a dozen guards - COs, or correctional officers, they are technically called - has just arrived. The COs flank the door and scan the room with their tinted aviator shades. Sometimes they show up because they’re there to extract an inmate, but other times they just stand around and try to look imposing; power tripping against thousands of years of cultural norms. 

Rian notes that DJ is among the guards; he was one of Phasma’s cronies. Not all the guards were horrible to alphas - some were even civil - but there were some that followed Phasma’s lead of treating alphas like animals, of taking cruel pleasure in their suffering. DJ leans towards the CO next to him; he says something, but he’s too far away to be able to tell what he’s saying. With his shades on Rian couldn’t tell who DJ was looking at.

Who the fuck wore shades inside anyway?

As Ziff and Rian grab trays, Rian notes that Plutt, a huge beta, is portioning out mains. Plutt addresses him as he approaches the station. “Ah, Rianne, looks like someone has kindly ordered you a special diet today. Hope you enjoy your meal.” Rian stares at his plate as Plutt plops a lean half scoop of potatoe-y, watery shepherd’s pie onto his plate.

Rian tries to glare at him, but Plutt doesn’t seem to notice; the betas that work the kitchen are well protected both by the design of the kitchen’s enclosure, and by the proximity of the guards. 

Rian knew the food deprivation was just a ploy to get under his skin, just like calling him by the wrong name. 

At least he still got a dessert; a pink frosted cupcake with heart sprinkles. Yeah, the cooks thought they were hilarious.

He follows Ziff to their usual table. Boba is already sitting there and Ziff takes the bench next to him; Rian takes the seat across. The tan skinned alpha is only a couple years older than Ziff; together the three of them are youngest alphas at Redguard.

Ziff nods at Rian’s meager portion. “Getting close to release again, eh?” 

Rian nods between bites.

“Well, if you do get out I will certainly miss you buddy.” 

Rian just grunts. He had been here far too many times to really get his hopes up. He feels like he’s already jinxed it by hearing those words. 

If Rian’s melancholy is obvious, Ziff ignores it. “So while I was working on Lak today, he said that Wuher said that Tarkin is retiring.” He looks at Rian expectantly. 

Wuher was one of the older, nicer guards. “The warden?” 

Ziff gives a sage nod. “The same.” 

Tarkin had been warden at Redguard for decades, and his thinly veiled dislike of alphas gave Phasma and her followers the leeway they needed to treat the alpha inmates poorly. The promise of Tarkin retiring sounded too good to be true. “You know Lak also claims that he has an omega waiting for him on the outside.”

“Hey I’m just saying what he said,” Ziff said defensively.

“Do you know who the replacement is?”

“Mmm nah.” 

“Hmm.”

“Hmm.” Of course many of Ziff’s rumours were just that, rumours, but the thought of getting rid of Tarkin was... hopeful.

As they eat Rian finds Boba unusually quiet; if Ziff does also he doesn’t show it. Boba finishes his meal ahead of them and leaves with just a nod.

“What’s up with Boba?” Rian asks in hushed tones.

“Soooooooo,” Ziff says dramatically. “Apparently Boba’s _dad_ is getting transferred here. To our wing,” he clarifies pointedly.

It takes a second for that to compute. “His _dad_ ’s an alpha?” 

“So it would seem.” Ziff starts unwrapping his muffin.

A few of the older alphas at Redguard supposedly had or had had alpha fathers, but no one under forty. While at the alpha school, none of the alphas had had an alpha for a father, well... except maybe-

“Hey, Yolo.” A deep voice calls from down the aisle; the alpha walking towards Ziff is huge.

Ziff stiffens slightly at being called his first name, but he when he turns his usual smile is plastered across his face. “Grummgar!” he says in his usual jovial tone. “Hey, what can I do for you?” 

Grummgar was probably _the_ biggest alpha on the block at the moment. He towered over the other inmates but not in a thin, lanky way; he was built like a mountain. He takes the seat beside Ziff and the bench creaks in protest. “We need to talk.”

Normally Rian would be concerned at hearing such an ominous statement, but he had learned long ago that this was how Grummgar opened all of his tattoo conversations with Ziff. Right now Grummgar isn’t anything to worry about. However, where Grummgar goes, so does...

“Hey, move it _runt_.” 

...Pru.

Rian turns in his seat. 

Pru Sweevant was a dwarf. He only came up to Rian’s chest when standing, but that didn’t stop Pru from being just as domineering as every other alpha on the block. He, Grummgar, and their friend Cookie were always with each other at meals. 

The ‘runt’ thing had started the first time Rian met Pru face to face. Rian had gone to the cafeteria alone. He had been at the end of the line, when someone had yelled at him from behind. “Back of the line _runt!_ ” Rian knew Pru’s voice, knew that it belonged to the dwarf. This was his chance, Rian had thought. He could just turn around and tell off the shorter alpha in front of everyone in the caf. He could prove that he’s not a pushover. And then he turned around to find Pru… with Grummgar standing behind him, both looking at Rian intently. Before Rian could stop himself, he could feel himself shrink back and he knew he had already lost. 

Now, over three years later, he still hadn’t regained an equal footing. A bolder alpha would have told Pru to ‘fuck off’ or ‘no’ or any number of negative responses when being told to give up their seat. But Rian is not a bolder alpha. There is still some part of him, deep down, that was scared shitless of this place. So without drawing more attention to himself, he scoots around the table to sit where Boba had been, letting Pru and Cookie take up the space across from Ziff and Grummgar.

At this point Grummgar is gesturting grandly, explaining the scene he wants Ziff to create for him; Ziff is sketching quickly, trying to keep up. 

Rian finishes his meager meal. He usually doesn’t eat his dessert, often trading it for something useful, but given that he only had half a portion of food… maybe he’ll treat himself today. He reaches for it. 

“Hey kid.” The dwarf holds out two cigarettes out to him and looks pointedly at his cupcake.

He could usually get three or four cigarettes for a cupcake, but he wasn’t in a position to bargain with Pru. Or turn him down.

He moves the cupcake to Pru’s side of the table and takes the cigarettes, tucking them behind his ear. Rian didn’t smoke but he had no qualms about using them as currency.

By this time, Ziff has a rough composition laid out; it’s a montage of sport animals - a stag, a boar, an elephant, a rhino. He wonders if Grummgar had hunted as a child or young teen. Alphas were traditionally great hunters, providers to their house and people. Rian missed shooting. Not so much the hunting and killing part, but for the discipline, for the chance to become good at something. And he missed the solitude. He missed going to the woods and being alone. He was so tired of the prison; the crowding, the posturing, the pissing contests. For a moment he lets his attention shift away from the table.

Across the cafeteria he sees Baze - a tall stocky, alpha - carrying two trays while his cellmate, Chirrut, follows him by holding his shoulder. Chirrut was all but completely blind and depended on Baze to guide him around the prison.

They sit.

They ate their meals the same way every day - side by side - with Baze describing what is on the tray and Chirrut navigating it expertly with his fingers.

Rian remembers one day, shortly after he arrived, that he was watching them. They had been sitting as they were now. Baze had cradled Chirrut’s cheek in his hand, and then leaned in to kiss him softly, Chirrut reciprocating by bringing his hand up to Baze’s face, before they returned to their meal. It was only several months later that he noticed the claiming marks on their necks, so old and faded that they no longer stood out against their skin. 

Alphas coupling with each other was uncommon enough that the government wouldn’t formally recognize them as a bonded pair. Medical science was still out on the issue (but science also didn’t have definitive answers about alpha/omega bonding either). It hadn’t really been a problem for Baze and Chirrut until legislation was passed about a decade ago that limited how close one unbonded alpha could live to another. Suddenly their best option to stay together had been to go to prison and fight to be placed together. Chirrut was able to make the case that he was dependant on Baze to compensate for his blindness, and luckily the prison’s doctor supported their position.

As Rian watches them he’s both happy for them for having found each other and sad for them that they have to spend their lives in prison just to do so.

And then his thoughts turn, as they often do when he’s thinking about close and gentle things, to someone else... 

The silhouette of the girl from his dream flashes in his mind. 

He knew who she was, knew that his brain was erroneously labeling her as an omega. She was the research girl that had come last fall. It didn’t take long for the whole block to hear that a cute beta girl was doing research interviews. Every time she came the tension in the prison ramped up a notch. There would be more fights than usual, more ruts. It was kind of crazy, like there was something in the water. Ziff had been happy to fill requests for porn drawings of “the research girl”, though interest was waning as time passed. It had been months since she was last at Redguard.

Rian was not immune to this effect either. Not that he had gone into rut over it; he hadn’t had one since coming to Redguard. But after his interview, she had haunted his dreams more often than not. Even he had a few drawings of her under his mattress. 

In his dreams, sometimes he would actually catch her. Sometimes he would even have sex with her, often in the tall grass of the meadow. Her skin was soft and her smile...

His momentary reverie is disrupted when he realizes that Ziff has stood and is walking to the door with Grummgar. Pru is directing Cookie to clear Ziff and Grummgar’s trays.

 _Shit_. This is what he got for not paying attention.

Rian would never admit this, but if anyone paid attention to his daily routine it was pretty obvious that he tried to stick to Ziff whenever he could. Ziff was far from the biggest or scariest alpha on the block but his talents, both for tattooing and producing ‘entertainment’, granted him a special place in the prison’s hierarchy. If anyone messed Ziff, there would be a long line of alphas wanting pay back. And Rian understood, that by being near Ziff, he could also take advantage of the small halo of protection that Ziff seemed to enjoy. And that’s what Rian looked for all day, every day: any little advantage that he could get.

Alpha on alpha violence wasn’t an everyday occurrence at Redguard. In some ways the alphas in prison were actually nicer than the betas, because the betas were actual criminals; most of the alphas were just regular guys who happened to get one too many sanctions. Still, Rian tried hard to avoid confrontation. The only time Rian had been in fights with other alphas was at the school with his friends and he’d lost almost every fight. He’d almost certainly lose to any alpha at Redguard, so Rian did everything he could to avoid it.

But more than not wanting to get beat up, Rian was hoping to get out of Redguard without being raped. It didn’t happen a lot, but it still happened. Usually it was when someone suddenly hit a rut and things got out of hand - but not always. Rian knew who to avoid, where not to be at certain times of the day, but the risk was never zero.

So, whenever unexpected things happened to Rian, whenever his carefully planned day went awry, the fear that something might happen would start to creep in… like now.

He scrambles to bring his tray to the turn in station, but there is a bit of a line. Ziff and Grummgar are already heading out the doors, and are long gone by the time he’s free of his tray and following them. 

He should have just listened to Grummgar yammer on about his stupid tattoo and then he could have been prepared for Ziff leaving and he shouldn’t bother thinking about pretty girls that he’ll never see again. As he walks through the doors he mentally kicks himself for becoming distracted. 

And apparently he was kicking himself so hard that he didn’t even notice one of the COs stick out their leg to trip him, until he was landing flat out on the hallway floor, one of his cigarettes skittering off to be stepped on. 

“Fuck!” he turned, and then gut turned to a cold lump. By the time he finished his words he could see his mistake but he could not take it back.

“Oh, t-t-t-take it easy big-R. Verbal assault of CO… Th-that’s an automatic sanction… plus ninety days’ time… Y-you don’t want to get too many of those on your record.” 

Rian stood slowly, focusing on a little speck on the floor so that he wouldn’t look DJ in the face. He’d been down this road before too. Accepting the sanction was the least damaging thing he could do at this point.

DJ holds out a slip of paper with the sanction notice. “Have a nice day, Rianne.”

Rian takes the paper and turns, heading towards the cell block. He can hear the other guards chuckling behind him. 

As he walks, Rian glances up at the dead lens of a security camera. In theory he should put in a complaint and have the footage reviewed to try to fight his sanction, but only about half of the cameras worked on the alpha side of the prison, and the guards new exactly which ones.

Once in his cell, Rian lifts his mattress and places the remaining cigarette in a line with others; he’s accumulated enough that he can turn them in for credit with Hill, but not right now. Right now he doesn’t want to do anything. Begrudgingly he takes out his little notebook, crosses out ‘20’ and writes ‘110’.

After replacing his mattress, he climbs into his bunk he stares at the ceiling. 

_Fuck!_

He strikes out at the wall but, of course, the cinder blocks win. His eyes sting a bit but not from the pain in his hand.

Usually he would go find Ziff now; instead he lays there until it’s time to go for supper. 

When he sits down with Ziff and Boba at their usual table the other two don’t say anything. They probably would have heard about what happened; there was just nothing to say.

And that’s what his life felt like these days; a whole lot of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My insecurity:** We haven't gotten a single kudos or comment in two weeks.  
>  **Me:** That's okay.  
>  **My insecurity:** And during those two weeks we had a tweet about our fic re-tweeted by someone famous. We had over 1000 impressions. Almost 100 people clicked the link to our fic. ZERO KUDOS. ZERO COMMENTS.  
>  **Me:** It's fine. We're not writing a Reylo fic; it's bound to be rather unpopular.  
>  **My insecurity:** We should stop writing this and write some Reylo stuff.  
>  **Me:** No, no. We have lots of cool stuff planned. It'll be fine.  
>  **My libido:** We should write some smut. Then we'll get kudos.  
>  **My insecurity:** We will? That's a great idea!  
>  **Me:** No. Not yet.
> 
> But seriously, if this has taught me anything it's that I'm such a whore for comments, so please go crazy with comments, questions, requests.
> 
> And I'm sorry that this chapter took so long but I didn't have much pre-written when I started, and the first draft was so far from the final draft, but I'm happy with how it turned out and I hope you like it too.
> 
> As I'm sure you noticed there are like a zillion minor SW characters pulled in anachronistically from all three trilogies (I hope you don't mind that cause it's going to keep happening). If you don't want to have to look them all up, I've actually done a post on my [tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/post/183103688831/alpha-prisoners-at-redguard) with all the alpha characters from this chapter.
> 
> And if you didn't know, there is now a related one-off mini fic called [The Librarian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088890/chapters/42080201#workskin) which features a slightly younger Luke at Yavingard.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “Are you okay?”  
>   
> “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visual reference for chapter 7:  
> 
> 
>  
> 
>  **Trigger warning:** this chapter contains a(n attempted) sexual assault. It is brief and not overly graphic.

**Sunday afternoon**

Luke sits at his L-shaped desk in his personal office. The wood-paneled room is part of the headmaster’s quarters, located directly over the school’s main office. In the past, other staff also lived at the school but now only Luke remains, with most staff living in the nearby town of Eisley.

The drive back from the city had felt much longer than usual. He had spent most of it trying - and failing - to think of something other than Kaydel. The farther he got from the city, the more incensed his alpha became.

By the time he arrived at the school he felt exhausted. 

Even as he removed his suitcase from the trunk of Leia’s Lexus he wondered what kind of luggage Kaydel had. He would carry it for her of course, his alpha had pointed out. Luke had tried to focus on his breathing as he walked up the wide stone steps to the main building’s front entrance. _If she was here you could hold the door for her_ , his alpha droned as he opened the heavy door for just himself. As he walked past the main office, his alpha continued, _And then you’d show her your school, your quarters, your-_

“Oh, I’d tap that.” The young male voice came from around the corner, a voice Luke knew. Other male voices responded with rowdy guffaws. “And her.” More guffaws. 

At this, Luke set down his suitcase and started moving towards the corner.

Before he reached it, a phone pinged triumphantly. “Oh, _yes_! Gonna get me some _BITCHEEEEEEESSSSSS!_ ”

The other boys exploded into laughter.

And in that moment Luke decided he was going to put a stop to this; he felt his alpha rising and he didn’t hold it back.

When Luke rounded the corner he was almost on top of the small crowd of students. The speaker was in the middle, holding a cell phone for them all to look at. His bravado evaporated the moment he saw Luke coming towards him; all the students fanned back.

Luke could feel his alpha within him, it’s power coursing through every fiber of his being. Luke bore down on the young dark-haired speaker. The phone, suddenly forgotten, made a sickening _crritch_ as it struck the floor. The young alpha flinched back from Luke, and Luke took every inch of ground that the boy gave up, stopping only when the boy was backed against the wall.

“ _You will not_ speak _like that in these halls._ ” Luke’s voice reverberated throughout the corridor, demanding silence, and when the last echo of it ceased the world was unnaturally still. 

Luke could feel the eyes of the other students staring at him; good. 

When he spoke again his voice was a harsh rumble. “Get out of here, Ezra.” Instantly the boy turned to scramble away. Luke fixed his stare on the onlookers and in a heartbeat they too followed hastily down the hall. 

Luke stooped and bruskly snatched up the abandoned cell phone. It was only as the young alphas neared the end of the long hall that Luke’s blood cooled and the nature of his actions dawned on him. He retrieved his luggage and retreated up the stairs to his quarters. He had been sitting at his desk since.

He had lost it; lost his cool. He had let his alpha take over. 

He replays the moment over and over: his incessant thoughts of Kaydel being interrupted by the young alpha’s bluster; his momentary decision to not hold back his alpha; and how everything had rapidly spiraled out of control. The feeling of power had been so seductive. The promise of control; the promise of being able to keep such crass words from existing in the same universe as... her. 

He’d only given in for a fraction of a moment and his alpha had consumed him. 

He reflected on this the most. Usually his alpha was just a small part of him, but today it had expanded within him until it occupied every corner of his being, until there was no difference between he and his alpha. He examines that sensation - that feeling - from every angle, not because it was new, but because he had felt it once before.

* * *

It was the August before Luke’s twelfth grade year. Not having a home to go home to, he had stayed at the school over the summer. He couldn’t wait for Biggs to come back next month.

He wasn’t supposed to, but Luke would often slip the guards and go for walks on the surrounding grounds. At the time, the GPS tracker system used to monitor alphas hadn’t been invented yet. As long as he was back for roll-call at supper he’d be okay. 

The surrounding lands had once been dotted with small, irregular, farmer’s fields. Now the fields were overgrown with tall grasses and young trees, giving no hints as to the nature of their former crops. Luke could have walked in any direction, but today his feet took him towards the edge of the property where stood the remains of a small stone farmhouse. Past it, the old farm road wound through the forest and led to the edge of town; Luke had walked it once just to see where it went.

The weather had been cool, so Luke wore a white sweater along with his white shirt and white jeans. White jeans were all the rage now. Even in their isolation, the students at the school weren’t immune to the changing fashions of the outside world.

Luke crested a small hill and could see the rough stone wall of the farmstead behind a thin line of trees. The roof of the farmstead had collapsed long ago. 

He had just stepped under the shadows of the line of trees when, through the branches, he saw a flash of red in the empty farmhouse window. It was a girl - a teenage girl - who had stood suddenly and was rearranging her flowing red hair. 

Luke froze, worried that she would see him, but she simply moved and sat - as if just changing seats - and once again she was hidden by the wall. 

Luke knew he should leave. Even if this girl was the one trespassing on school property, if he got caught it would be Luke’s hide that paid the price. But in the brief moment that Luke saw her he thought she was… interesting. Somehow the risk of getting caught didn’t seem so bad.

So Luke crept up to the wall, being mindful to step quietly through the thin brush, and sat.

Luke could hear low voices from the other side of the wall; the girl’s, supposedly, and also a male voice. Luke listened but he couldn’t quite catch what they were saying. He heard the flick of a lighter, and a few moments later Luke could smell something sweet on the air. The girl coughed once. Were they smoking pot? Luke wasn’t sure; he had only heard about it from some of the guys at the school.

If only it was him with the girl on the other side of the wall... it would have been a perfect moment. The sky was dotted with only a few clouds; there was a gentle breeze rustling the leaves and the grass; birds chirped and flitted from branch to branch before flying off.

And then the sounds from the other side of the wall became infinitely more interesting, because they turned from quiet talking to soft ‘mmmm’s and ‘hmmm’s. 

_Holy shit_. They were making out. 

Luke’s entire universe shrank to the audio events coming from the other side of the wall. He hung on every sound. At one point he thought she might have said, “Mmmm, that feels nice.” And on the background of this, Luke would occasionally smell wafts of that of the sweet grassy scent.

The ‘mmmm’s continued. 

He closed his eyes a moment and his hand brushed against his growing erection…

...and Luke suddenly realized how bad this would go if he got caught. Being late for dinner was one thing. Voyeurism would bring a whole other level of consequences. Luke knew he needed to leave. 

Very much not wanting to, he slowly peeled himself from where he sat and made his way to the other side of the thin line of trees. 

Just in case he was spotted, he took off his sweater and tied it around his waist so the drooping sleeves would help to cover his hard on. He so badly wanted to stay when the breeze brought him one last hit of that sweet grassy fragrance.

The inviting sounds of the couple followed him as he started across the field. 

“Mmmm. MMHm. _Hey_!”

Luke whirled and froze. 

“Ah.. mhm.. No. _Stop_ it.”

Luke was moving before he really thought about it. His concerns about being caught vanished, pushed aside by a presence that was rooted deep within him.

He bee-lined it for the side of the building where the remaining wall was only waist height. 

“Come on...”

“No. Stop it. _Stop it_.”

Luke rounded the corner and hopped the half-fallen wall easily. The teenage boy was all over the girl, pushing her up against the stone wall where she sat, his hand up her shirt, and his legs holding hers apart, forcing her long skirt to ride up to her knees. 

In a blink Luke was on him. The other male wasn’t tiny but Luke lifted him easily and slammed him against the wall, holding him by his neck. He could feel the thing within him cresting, filling him with raw power. “ _Never touch her again._ ” 

The boy’s eyes were flung wide. His face was turning purple and he struggled weakly against Luke’s arm. It took Luke a moment to realize that he was choking the boy. He dropped him and the beta collapsed to the ground just long enough to take a ragged breath before looking up at Luke. 

“ _Get out of here._ ” 

Instantly the beta scrambled to go, running in the opposite direction of the girl. Luke followed him for a few steps, watching as he half fell over the wall and ran towards the old road. Soon he was out of sight behind the trees. A few moments later a car door slammed and an engine started and drove off.

Luke’s breath was still coming hard when he heard the the swish of cloth behind him.

He turned. The teenage girl had stood and was straightening her clothes. She wore a white peasant shirt, a jean jacket and a long, dark blue and green skirt. On her feet were simple flat leather sandals. Her straight red hair fell past her shoulders, though a few strands stuck up out of place. 

Luke thought that maybe she was the same age as him, or maybe a couple years younger. He also thought she was kind of pretty. 

Suddenly Luke realized that he was staring… but so was she. Not in a fearful, revolted way. Not in a melting, ‘my hero’ way either. Just... looking at him. 

He glanced around and broke the silence. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” She looked to the road. 

Luke looked too. “That was probably your ride, wasn’t it?”

“Ahh, yeah.” Her eyes moved back to him. 

Neither took a step towards or away from the other.

At this point Luke figured that he was already going to get into shit over something that had happened. What could a little more trouble hurt? “I could walk you back to town, if you’d like.”

Birds chirped around them, the gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and somewhat to Luke’s surprise she nodded. Slowly she reached down and picked up a bag - her purse he realized. She pulled the long leather strap over her head to wear it across her body. She looked at him again. “Ready,” she said with a slightly breathy voice.

Together they exited the farmstead’s confines, her walking through the gap in the wall where a door had once been, Luke jumping the wall instead so that he could keep the distance between them unchanged. Together they cut across the farmstead’s overgrown lawn to the road.

The road was only one lane, dirt and gravel, overgrown with grasses and wildflowers, heavily encroached upon by the surrounding trees.

Luke walked on one side of the road; the girl on the other. 

Luke tried to keep his eyes forward, but he couldn’t help sneaking glances at the girl, and soon he caught her looking at him too. They were short glances at first, then longer, and soon they were staring at each other openly as they walked. Neither took a step to the left or right. It should have been awkward, them looking at each other and not speaking. Instead it felt completely natural.

Luke passively memorized everything about her. The vine pattern in the panels of her ankle length skirt. The pink and purple knotted fabric that made up the body of her purse. How the purse’s long strap reached from shoulder to hip, crossing her body between her breasts. The freckles that adorned her nose. The green of her eyes.

Of course it couldn’t last; Luke tripped on a rock. 

He was able to catch himself before he fell flat on this face. The girl tried not to laugh, covering her mouth behind her hand. Luke’s cheeks flamed. 

They continued walking. Luke resolved not to trip again. He tried not to look at her but found himself glancing at her anyway. She was looking again too, her eyes going back and forth between him and the road. 

“What?” he said asked with a wry smile.

She hesitated a moment but then asked, “Are you one of the alphas?” She said it gently, but it still stung, a reminder that Luke didn’t belong to her world. 

He cleared his throat and looked down at the road ahead of them. He did his best to let the hurt go when he spoke. “What do you think?” He looked back up at her and then it was her turn to look away.

They walked, not looking at each other, for a time. Eventually the road straightened. There were only two roads that joined the farm road; the one at the end that lead into town, and the bypass road that skirted town, through the forest, connecting the farm road to the main road leading to the school. Once they passed the turn off for the bypass Luke noticed that she started stealing glances again.

He wanted to ask her something about herself, anything about herself, but in his head he knew it would probably be misinterpreted: where do you live? How old are you? What’s your name?

He definitely couldn’t ask her her name because then she’d ask him his.

The sun was warm, but the breeze was a little cool. Part of Luke wished she wasn’t wearing a jacket so he could offer her his sweater. The breeze also brought him little hints of scent from her, sweet but different than before. It was nice, whatever it was.

They approached the bend where the farm road turned and became paved and continued on into a quiet neighbourhood at the edge of town. In the distance Luke heard a car drive away.

He slowed and stopped. This was as far as he could go without risking a whole neighbourhood of betas seeing him. 

A moment later she stopped too, having noticed that he was no longer walking with her. She turned back to look at him. 

“Will you be okay from here?” Luke asked, taking in her ivory skin. Gods she was so… interesting.

“I should be. It’s not far.” 

Luke was relieved to hear that. He wished he could go with her.

He nodded.

This was the moment that she should turn and go; or maybe he should. But again they just stared at each other for a long moment.

Luke, again, broke the silence. “Well, I should head back,” he said, gesturing up the road. If he made roll-call at all it was going to be close.

“Okay... Thanks for coming with me.”

“No problem.” Except for all the shit he was going to get in. He couldn’t imagine the teenage boy not telling someone. He really hoped the girl wouldn’t report him; maybe she’d even stick up for him. Maybe not. He didn’t know what to think. At least he got to spend the walk with her. Maybe that was worth it.

She nodded. “Bye.” She looked a little sad as she turned away. 

Luke turned too... and turned back when her steps stopped, and suddenly sped up. Only she wasn’t running away from him. She ran right up to him, and he stood dumbfounded as she rose up on her tiptoes to put a peck of a kiss on his cheek. That soft, sweet scent flowed from around her soothing the tension that he still carried in his shoulders from earlier.

And then she went, for real this time, though she kept looking back over her shoulder until she rounded the corner and was out of sight behind the trees.

Oh yeah.

 _Definitely_ worth it. 

And definitely good that he was still wearing his sweater around his waist.

Luke knew he had the dumbest smile on his face, but he couldn’t care less.

His body felt as light as a feather the whole way back to the school. 

Somehow he only missed roll-call by five minutes; Palpatine gave him a lash for each one. On the outside Luke tried to seem contrite, submissive. On the inside he didn’t really care, his brain still spinning with the events of the afternoon. 

Over the next few days, Luke kept expecting the guards to come up and seize him, to question him about what happened, about why a teenage boy might say he attacked him. But days turned into weeks and weeks into months and it seemed that the boy - and the girl - had told no one what happened. 

He thought of the girl often, wondering if she made it home okay, wondering if the boy had ever bothered her again. Not knowing these things bothered Luke, but he had no way of finding out without getting himself into trouble.

Sometime he would slip the guards and wander out to the farmhouse, but, of course, no one was ever there. Still, though, he liked sitting there, and thinking of the red-headed girl whose name he did not know. 

* * *

In the months after it happened, Luke had tried to summon that feeling, that power that he had commanded when he challenged the teenage boy, but, of course, it had never worked. Long ago he accepted that it was something that couldn’t be forced.

Still, never once had Luke regretted pulling the teenage boy off the red-headed girl. Never once had he questioned the morality behind the strength coursing through his arms as he heaved him against the stone wall. Never once.

Until today.

It was rare for Luke to show his frustration. He condemned physical violence. And yet all it took was for one of his kids to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and say the wrong thing while his hormones were out of whack, and suddenly none of that had mattered to Luke. He had turned into the tyrant that he’s been trying to protect his kids from.

And he can’t just blame his hormones, even if they are higher than he’s used to. He, personally, was the only one responsible for his actions.

He needed to speak to Ezra. The teen’s words had been disrespectful - that kind of language would easily earn him a sanction in the real world - but what Luke had done - getting into his space, being physically intimidating - was inappropriate. It was wrong.

This was the dark side of his alpha. Giving in to it was his failure. 

Luke sighs. 

His gaze drifts across the wall above his desk. It’s covered with little rectangles of paper, cut-outs of passages and quotes that Luke liked. Many were from Jedi meditation masters, now long dead. Luke had read quite a bit about the Jedi; the peaceful alpha monks who swore to take no mate. Luke had found their philosophical insights helpful over the years.

His eyes fall on one quote he read often. **“** The greatest teacher, failure is. _\- Yoda_ **”**

_What are you trying to teach me?_

He drops his eyes the Ezra’s cell phone sitting on the desk beside him and he sighs again.

He knows what he has to do: he has to apologise to Ezra. 

Luke ran optional meditation sessions before breakfast on Tuesdays and Thursdays; Ezra often attended. If Ezra doesn’t come to claim his phone tomorrow, if he doesn’t see Ezra tomorrow, he’d speak to him after the Tuesday meditation.

That settled in his mind, Luke forces himself up from his desk and heads to the other end of his quarters, to his bedroom, to unpack. 

The last items that he deals with are the bottles from Amilyn. He opens one of the Res-tech bottle as well as his current bottle from the pharmacy and removes a pill from each. The pills look remarkably similar; white, oval, scored. Only the writing on them is different. No wonder he hadn’t noticed the change. 

He wonders how long he’s been on the new brand, how long his testosterone has been climbing. Has he been more irritable for a while now? He tries to think of when it may have started. The pharmacy would know when the switch happened, but he doesn’t want to draw any attention by asking. He supposes that eventually he’ll have to point out that the new brand isn’t working properly. That, or Amilyn would have to keep him supplied with the Res-tech brand indefinitely. Oddly he felt content to leave this problem for another day; a problem for future-Luke, his kids would say.

He counts the First Order brand pills, dumps them into a paper bag and stuffs it deep into his trash can. Then he replaces them with the same number of Res-tech brand pills. After, he hides the remaining pills at the back of his wardrobe on the top shelf.

He’d have to still make a show of filling his prescriptions at the pharmacy, but that was fine. 

As he pockets his pill bottle, his phone pings. 

**Leia:** Did you make it home safely?

He calls her and she picks up right away. “How was your trip?”

“Ah, it was okay.” It had been torture; his alpha constantly feeding him the feeling that he was going the wrong way. “I almost started driving back to Toronto after gassing up at Tosche Station.”

There’s a slight pause. “Oh?”

“Not on purpose, just… driving on autopilot.”

“Ah. That can happen.” Another pause. “Amilyn called. She gave me an appointment for our friend.” Even on the phone Leia was overly cautious about the omegas they found. “I passed it on.” Luke would bet money that she had called from an untraceable prepaid cell phone; for once he fully approved of Leia’s over the top cloak and dagger tactics. 

Of course this just reminds Luke that he doesn’t have Kaydel’s phone number; that she doesn’t have his. What if she needed to call him? Maybe he should email-

He hears Leia’s voice but he fails to catch the words.

“Sorry what?”

“Was Amilyn able to find anything?” his sister repeated patiently. Even if Amilyn had spoken to Leia today, she wouldn’t have discussed any of Luke’s visit with her. She took the privacy of her a/o patients very seriously.

“Ah, yeah. It’s a medication issue. Things should be getting back to normal soon.” Somehow he keeps the heaviness in his heart from reaching his voice. _You’re abandoning her,_ his alpha tells him. _You won’t be able to protect her._

“Oh good.” Leia was obviously trying to not sound too relieved, but he could still hear it in her voice.

He grows uncomfortable enough with the subject to change it. “So when I came back, I was only in the school thirty seconds before I snapped at a student.” Luke departs his bedroom, and heads back to his private office.

“Oh.” Another pause. “Badly?” 

Luke cringes recalling the moment. “Bad enough. I’m going to apologize.” He grabs Ezra’s phone off his desk. Standing by the wall he presses on one of the panels and a cleverly hidden door swings forward, revealing a narrow staircase. 

“Will you be okay tomorrow?”

He descends the familiar steps and emerges in the headmaster’s office - his work office - one story below. It too has a desk, but rectangular, set in the middle of the room - ideal for speaking to parents or students. “I’ll just keep a low profile. Nothing special is planned.” A stack of papers sits in his in-box.

“Okay, well I hope it everything runs smoothly.”

Maybe he’ll leave his paperwork until tomorrow; he certainly didn’t feel like doing it now. He puts Erza’s phone on top of the stack. “Thanks. Talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later.”

He pockets his phone, and sighs.

He walks to the other end of the main office and enters a small, cramped room filled with old filing cabinets. He locates and pulls out the appropriate drawer.

_Casterman, Rian._

He tucks the file folder under his arm and returns to his office so that he can take the narrow stairs back to his quarters above. 

He sits, again, at his L-shaped desk and leans back in his chair for a moment. 

His hand drifts to the square of paper in his pocket. He takes it out and opens it, sending a faint waft of Kaydel’s scent towards him. He has the urge to draw the paper closer, but he just looks at the dots instead. He notes that most of the alphas in her study are taller than he is. Maybe he would have grown another inch or two if he hadn’t started on the medication at nineteen. 

His eyes continue to rove the page, but then it strikes him that Rian would be one of the dots. Kaydel had spoken to him, and wanted to do so again. He feels his alpha reeling up again and he pushes down hard, closing his eyes and dropping the paper to his desk.

_Fuck._

Just a few more days of this. That’s all he had to get through. 

When he opens his eyes he forces them to the wall above the other half of his L-shaped desk. On it a dozen or so small pictures sit in simple frames; names and dates are affixed to the bottom of each.

Biggs’ picture was there; a younger Luke stands next to him, half cut off by the edge of the frame. They had been in their twelfth grade year when the fire happened. Luke sighs again.

He had a picture on his wall of every alpha who had ever died while under the charge of the school. He had gone back through the records and found them all.

Some of the deaths were during Palpatine’s command. Some prior to that. Only one picture had been added to the collection since Luke became headmaster. It showed a tall, dark-haired alpha; if you didn’t know better, one might have mistaken him for Luke’s nephew. That had been a bad year.

Luke had found the pictures helpful over the years, a reminder of why he was doing this. 

Tonight, at least, they helped to quiet his alpha.

Sighing one last time, Luke opens Rian’s file and starts reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My ego:** Smooth move, hitting the post button when you didn't mean to.  
>  **Me:** It's fine.  
>  **My insecurity:** Oh my gods, we're so dumb.  
>  **Me:** It's fine.  
>  **My libido:** And... I'm still waiting for something more than an unresolved boner.  
>  **Me:** Ahhhh... no appologies. Look you guys can bitch to each other, I need breakfast.  
>  **My libido:** So like... next chapter..?  
>  **Me:** No!  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> [Style reference for young Luke](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Uxc9eFcZyM)?  
>   
> (PS: I haven’t actually watched Rebels, so my apologies if my Erza isn't very good; there will be more of him in the future.)  
>  
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sorry that this is kind of a short chapter but it still took a while to get posted. After last chapter, I kind of fell down the rabbit hole of one of the story lines and spent a week writing it out from start to finish before I could get to this chapter.
> 
> Anyway, congrats to everyone for making it this far because we are finally out of the first 24-hours of story time. Time will be moving faster from here in.

**Tuesday**

Kaydel pulls up the hood of her raincoat and steps out the front door of her apartment. It’s been raining for three days straight though little domed piles of snow still sit at the edge of the sidewalk. She heads east on College Street, towards the university.

She had visited Statura’s office Monday morning. Even though she liked Statura as a supervisor she often felt nervous talking to him, worried that he might start grilling her on her methods. Normally _he_ spoke confidently and patiently with her, never rushing when providing guidance, never hesitating to say what was on his mind. But, when she arrived he had practically tripped over himself to rush his other masters student out the door. He had invited her in, asking how she was and how she felt. When she showed him her sample data he read it quietly for a long time. 

“You don’t like it.” Kaydel could feel her pulse beating in her neck.

“No, no it’s not that.” Statura went from sitting still as a rock to animatedly trying to reassure her. “In fact, I think going to be really eye opening when you put it all together. It’s just... really complex data. It’s… it’s way outside of what I do.” Which Kaydel understood; Statura normally spent his time analysing large population data sets, not narrative descriptions. “We just need to bring in some outside help on this. Ackbar does this sort of thing.” 

“Oh...” Becoming a bother to another faculty member was _not_ what Kaydel had planned; being a bother to one was bad enough.

“That is… if you still want to do this...” 

Kaydel could feel the doubt seeping in; maybe she should just drop her masters. But she really wanted to have something to show after a year-and-a-half’s work. “Sure. Yes. Let’s do it.”

The only thing that made Kaydel feel better about the situation was the camaraderie of the alpha studies faculty. In most other academic groups, supervisors generally weren’t keen on spending time on someone else’s student; but the alpha studies faculty was bound together by shared ideals, helping them to overcome the general competitiveness of academia. It was fairly common for students to get advice from other faculty. 

Which is what Kaydel is doing now; going to see Ackbar at his lab.

She crosses to the north side of the road, stepping around a patch of rain-slick ice.

The other big event yesterday had been to her appointment with Dr. Holdo, late in the afternoon. Kaydel had been super nervous all day about the appointment. When Senator Organa had said that she was going to have her see a doctor, she didn’t realize it was going to be with Holdo. Dr. Holdo had even guest lectured some of her old courses (usually with a different hair colour each time).

When Kaydel had arrived at the clinic the secretary had greeted her warmly; the only question she asked was if Kaydel would give her a urine sample for STI and pregnancy testing. They did the same at almost every visit at student health, so Kaydel had agreed quickly, not wanting to have to explain why the second (and the first also) were probably unnecessary. 

After coming back from the washroom she sat in the waiting room until she was called. Her heart had just been pounding ever since she entered the building. What if Holdo expected her to know a bunch of omega biology stuff that she didn’t remember anymore? 

It must have been obvious that she was freaking out a little on the inside, because when she finally got called in Dr. Holdo spent the first few minutes just talking about what she could offer Kaydel, how her clinic worked. She talked about how everything would be confidential, even from Luke and Leia. Dr. Holdo would maintain a chart on her, but nothing omega related would ever be entered or written down. If Kaydel needed a medication that would raise suspicions about her designation, Holdo would just give it to her directly. And If Dr. Holdo wasn’t available through the clinic, Kaydel could reach her on her cell phone for emergencies. The older woman had also offered that if Kaydel wasn’t comfortable having her as a doctor that there was another physician in the city who she could see instead; she assured Kaydel that she wouldn’t take it personally if she switched. 

And through this long spiel Kaydel could feel her heart rate slow down and finally normalize.

Kaydel had quickly told Dr. Holdo that she didn’t want to switch to the other doctor, and then the lavender-haired beta had started asking her general health questions.

Dr. Holdo asked about when Kaydel met Luke; she seemed to know some of the details already though she didn’t volunteer how she knew.

And then Holdo asked if she could ask about Kaydel’s sex life. Kaydel figured that’s what this whole thing was kind of about anyway, and after she’d been so nice about everything Kaydel felt she could trust her. So in general terms Kaydel described her prior nighttime activities, and how it all ground to a halt six months ago. How she keeps thinking about this one alpha, and how she had asked Luke and Leia to try to get him out of prison - basically so she can go on a date with him - which had made perfect sense on Saturday, but now just sounded crazy. She had looked at Holdo. “Is this a good idea? Should I just tell Luke and Leia to forget it?”

Holdo took a moment before responding. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing to pay attention when obviously feel attracted to him. I’m not saying you two are made for each other, but why not … give it a little time. If he gets out and he’s interested and you’re still interested then why not see what happens. Because really, you’ve already combed through a couple hundred alpha profiles, and only one caught your eye. Meeting alphas in a way that is both safe and fair is to you is… tricky. It’s one of the big obstacles for the omegas that I meet like this.”

“Do all the omegas go and find an alpha?”

Holdo shook her head. “Not everyone. Unfortunately there is a certain amount of risk attached to staying single. Without bonding to an alpha there’ll always the risk of being outed and placed under government protection.”

Kaydel nodded. “The omegas that want to find someone… how do they do it?”

The older woman smiled a little. “My partner and I basically play matchmaker. It involves exchanging scent samples, personality questionnaires, so that the girls get a sense of who they are meeting before they meet them. And once the omega finds someone she’s interested in we arrange for a covert chaperoned visit, which in itself is tricky. Unfortunately we can’t do that with your fellow in prison; all the mail is monitored, and there is no way to get you in and out safely. But once he’s out if you want to do something like that we could.” It sounded like a good idea, getting to know him beforehand.

She asked if Kaydel was on any form of contraception, to which Kaydel replied that she usually used condoms but had also got an IUD a couple years ago in case of accidents (she was trained in stats after all). Kaydel’s STI and pregnancy testing had been negative.

They talked of other things. 

Towards the end of the appointment Dr. Holdo had walked her through her medication options for ‘controlling her biology’. The IUD could stay regardless of what she chose - which was good because it had been really expensive and it still had a few years left before it needed to be replaced. 

The big decision was: did Kaydel want to take a medication to suppress her heats? While on it there would only be a two percent chance of going into heat even if she’s exposed to a hefty dose of alpha pheromones. She could get it as injections every three months at Holdo’s office. 

Kaydel thought about it for a little while. “The heats were pretty uncomfortable, but they weren’t _that_ bad, like not the way they write them in romance novels.” She gave a nervous laugh.

“Well about that,” Holdo started and Kaydel’s smile fell. “It’s not very well described in the literature, but in my experience, some heats are worse than others depending on how they are triggered. When omegas are exposed to lower doses of alpha pheromones - or synthetic mixtures - they sometimes go into heat, but it’s almost always very mild; they don’t get a lot of the libido side effects. However, when omegas have heats with alphas… that’s when they start to report the more _stereotypical_ heat symptoms.” 

“Oh.” _Oh._ “So I may have no idea what I’m in for… with a regular heat.”

“Quite possibly.”

“Oh. When should I expect my next one?”

“It’s really up in the air. I’m sure as you know the usual interval is every six months, but it’s highly variable, especially when you haven’t had a… _regular_ heat. Of course if you want to suppress them, the medication is always an option.”

Kaydel considered it, but… “I think I’ll pass.”

Holdo nodded. “The only other thing to consider is that I can give you a medication for emergency heat suppression. You don’t have to take it regularly, but if you start falling into heat, and you don’t want to go through with it - it’s the wrong guy, it’s not a safe situation - you can inject yourself and it will bring you out of heat over the next several hours, and it will usually keep you out for the next week.” She took a long box from the top shelf of one of her cupboards and opened it. 

“It looks like an Epi-Pen.”

“Works like one too. Will you take it? It would make me feel better if you had it.” 

Kaydel nodded. It was just an option. Options were good.

The rain starts to fall harder as Kaydel walks up King’s College Road. While Statura’s office was right on College Street, Ackbar’s was in the Medical Sciences Building. Kaydel scampers up the building’s broad steps and dashes under the large cement overhang that shelters the entrance. 

Her heart is racing again, but not just from the stairs. 

Ackbar was a very proficient researcher. His lab produced a lot of original research, and on top of that he wrote a lot of review papers. He had the most students of anyone in the faculty. He had started a behaviourist, but had moved into studying pheromone signaling back in the nineties. His research now was based heavily on biochemical analysis, but because of the complexity of pheromones mixtures, he still often relied on verbal accounts from both alphas and omegas.

Kaydel gets lost twice trying to find his lab, once because the stairwell she took up didn’t go all the way up to the floor she needs, once because the room number she’s looking for isn’t where she predicted it should be in the huge maze of the building’s layout.

When she gets up to his office she finds several grad students waiting outside, all holding papers or laptops or both. She nods at a couple and some glance up and nod back. She takes a seat and starts waiting.

She can hear Ackbar’s accented baritone from the other side of the door. After a few minutes, the door opens and a student walks out nodding. “I’ll email about how it goes.”

“Very good,” says Ackbar, wearing his usual coke-bottle glasses. “Who’s next?” 

One of the other students moves to greet Ackbar and the door closes behind them. Some of the students take five minutes, some much longer. As she waits a few more students join the haphazard queue.

She thinks she’s next and when the door opens she moves to stand, but a large, jovial male starts talking to Ackbar and the researcher waves him in and shuts the door.

 _Well that’s fine._ It _would_ be fine; she’d just try again next time.

This was the sort of thing that happened all the time to Kaydel; she blamed her height. If she reached the end of a check out line at the same time as someone else, the other person would go before her. If she was at a dinner party, Kaydel’s seat would be at the end, away from the conversation. If a group of her friends were walking somewhere, she would be at the back. Luscia never did it to her, but they had been best friends for years now. The only other person she could remember putting her first was… Luke… after the coffee shop. Because in the old days that what stereotypically happened to omegas; without an alpha they’re generally ignored by betas.

“Oh shit.” 

_Double shit._ She didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Yeah, it _is_ kind of a rat race in here.” Says the young, dark-haired female sitting next to her. “I’m sure Snap didn’t mean it; he’s just a little oblivious at times.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. You’re Jessica right?” She was pretty sure she recognised the PhD student who had joined the crowd just recently.

“Yeah, you’re one of Statura’s students right?”

“Kaydel.”

“What brings you over here to see Ackbar?”

“Ahh, well my thesis is falling apart...” Thank you politics. “...and it looks like what I have left is some interviews that require narrative analysis, so Dr. Statura suggested I ask Dr. Ackbar pointers how to get started.”

“Ooo. Starting over; that sucks.”

“Yeah.” Though Kaydel _really_ didn’t want to get into _why_ she was starting over. “What are you working on?”

“Responses to artificial pheromones mixtures. Basically we mail scent samples to alphas, and then they open and smell the sample while we have a recorded phone conversation. It gets interesting sometimes.” Is she blushing? “Ah, afterwards we also have them swab their glands with a blank cloth to mail back to us for analysis. It’s all part of the greater pheromone code project.”

“Oh cool.”

The voices on the other side of the door start to grow clearer. 

“Oh, here let me get you in.” Jessica put down her things and stood, dragging Kaydel with her. “If you need anything more than what Ackbar gives you, you can email me.” She dropped her voice. “He’s terrible at answering email.” Dr. Ackbar and the other student finish their conversation as Jessica drags Kaydel forward. “Hi Dr. Ackbar, this is Kaydel from Dr. Statura’s lab. She just needs some pointers on narrative analysis.”

When Ackbar turns to Kaydel, his eyes looking huge though his lenses, it’s like he’s noticing her for the first time. “Oh, do come in, do come in.”

* * *

Kaydel arrives home, locking the door behind her. The apartment is quiet and Lusica’s boots are missing.

She drops her backpack, filled with papers from Ackbar. He had been very nice and very helpful, but she still feels exhausted from the whole ordeal. Having to compete for someone’s attention, having to impress a new person; neither were Kaydel’s idea of a good time. Not for the first time she’s silently thankful that Statura only has two masters students and a PhD student under him. Thank gods Jessica had been there, or else...

She pauses mid way through hanging up her jacket.

_Oh shit._

She could see it. Ever moment of her life where Kaydel made room for someone else; every time she backed away from a confrontation; every omega in every bad romance novel or porno or TV show. Submissive, subservient, invisible. 

_Shit_. Is this what her life was going to be now? The classical omega in need of rescue? Despite the success of her mission at Ackbar’s lab, she feels a gnawing sensation growing in her gut. 

She hang her coat, grabs her bag and hurries down the hall to her room. She shuts the door behind her, opens her closet - burying her face where she had hung her winter coat - and inhales. 

At this point, in truth, she’s hyperventilating but for once she sees the the rapid air exchange as good. It fills her nose and her lungs with the reassuring scent that had been that had been collecting in the small space. All the tension in her gut melts away, and her respiratory rate slows.

She grabs the coat off the rack and hugs it to her.

She had been trying to avoid smelling her coat the last day or so, but she felt herself drawn back to it periodically, like she needed it to fend off withdrawal. She had also noticed that over time the scent was getting weaker. Maybe that was a good thing; she could just wean off of it as the scent gradually dissipated. 

She should have asked Holdo about this, but had felt weird about it because it was Luke’s scent, and Dr. Holdo knew Luke, and Luke was this much older man, and there was something strangely intimate about the whole thing that Kaydel tried not to think too much about. Of course, this line of thought only reinforces her revelation from the front hall that maybe she’s just a little needy omega; that she’s nothing without an alpha. 

She pushes the thought away, and relaxes her grip on the coat. She thinks about emailing Luke to ask him - she had thought about emailing him several times the last couple of days - but wouldn’t that just be proving the point? 

_Shit._

That and she really couldn’t tell Luke about the scent thing; it would just be too weird.

She shoves the coat back in the closet and slams the door shut. She sits at the edge of her bed and buries her face in her hands. She is not going to cry. She is not going to cry. She is _not_ going to cry. She takes a deep breath. A minute or so later she’s feeling more like herself again.

She leans over and retrieves the small picture she has of Rian from where she hid it under her lamp. She thinks of her conversation with Holdo. Was this going to be worth it? Was _he_ going to be worth trying for? 

She wonders.

* * *

Kaydel wrote quickly to finish her last note in the margin of her interview form. At around that moment she realized she was leaning a little close to the DO-NOT-TOUCH glass, so she tried to sit a little straighter as she collected her papers. “So why are you Rian with an ‘I’?” 

The question seemed to catch the alpha off guard. “Oh, ummm... my mom just liked it… I guess. ‘Rian’ just like ‘Brian’.” 

She nodded and sorted her interview sheets back into order. “Can I ask you… about your original sanctions as well?” Her eyes kept darting to his forearms; it was crazy how muscled they were.

He glanced at the clock. “Don’t you have more interviews you have to do?” he asked slowly.

She glanced up at him. “Do you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Ah, no.” Rian sat a little straighter, and clenched his fist for a moment, causing the muscles in his wrist to bulge; did he even know he was doing that? “Ah, well... you’ve probably heard this before but-”

“No I haven’t,” she interrupted softly.

“Haven’t what?”

“Heard this before.” She shrugged. “You’re my first interview… with an alpha.” Kaydel really didn’t know why she said that, though anything to keep him talking seemed like a good idea.

He swallowed. “Oh. You... sounded like you’ve done this before.” 

She just shook her head.

“Well you sounded good.” 

At that, her cheeks burned a little and her chin ducked down on it’s own accord, so when she next looked up at him it was through her eyelashes.

He dropped his eyes, shifting in his seat. “Anyway, you may not believe this, but I didn’t do what they said I did.”

“What was that?”

“Kill my neighbour’s sheep.”

“What?” That was not what she was expecting.

“My parents live on a farm. I live on the lot next to them. They grow corn. Their neighbours on the other side raise sheep. One day, after a thunderstorm, one of the sheep was found shot dead.” Kaydel vaguely recalled some news headlines from a few years ago; the media had had a field-day with inferences of a dangerous predator killing sheep. “Everyone in the area knows I used to rifle hunt… before I presented. The cops arrested me; they said I could have used one of my dad’s guns, which I didn’t even have access to. They should have formally charged me, ‘cause then at least I would have had a public defender. Instead they slapped two sanctions on me: one for destruction of property - the sheep - and one for violating the firearms prohibition. And like that I was in here.”

“Couldn’t you have fought it, in court?”

“We couldn’t really afford it. If we lost it would have been a lot of money. I figured I could wait out six months.” He took a deep breath. “And now it’s been longer than that.” He gave her a very straight long look. “But that’s if you want to believe me; so far, no one that matters does.”

Did she believe him? It sounded like he was telling the truth. What do you say to something like that? Of course almost all prisoners _claim_ to be innocent, but...

She glanced at her notes and back to him. “I hope you get out soon.”

He glanced back up to her and the corner of his mouth turned up a bit. He seemed almost surprised but in a good way. “Thanks.”

* * *

She hears the front door open followed by the muffled the sound of Lusica’s voice. “Kay, are you home?”

“Yeah, I’m in here.” She stuffs the picture of Rian back under her desk lamp.

Kaydel still doesn’t feel like anything is resolved - how she feels about herself; how she feels about Rian in prison; how she feels about Skywalker’s scent (oh gods, what is _that_ supposed to mean?) - but at least she isn’t panicking any more, and nothing really bad happened today. Like on many days before this one, Kaydel resolves that today is going to be a good day. She even resolves that she’s not going to email Skywalker - at least not today, the way a _needy_ omega would.

And now all she has to do now is survive until tomorrow (which she does).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, even the narrator is rooting for Kaydel.
> 
> Unimportant notes from my head-canon:  
> \- the DM for Kaydel's DnD group is Mitaka.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rian has a shitty day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Notes on Chapter 8**  
>  Two days after posting I did a major edit to the Dr. Holdo visit section, basically reneging on the idea that the world population was shrinking (as a consequence of a society without alphas).  
> Isha pointed out to me that in SH-canon the betas aren't having a problem with keeping the population going and that I was creating a mathematically impossible system. And after thinking long and hard about it, even if I wanted to continue as a side canon to the SH-verse, the whole concept was going to become too cumbersome.  
> I hope anyone who read the early version will forgive me for the backtracking; you only have to re-read the section with Holdo to capture all the changes (and it's not really necessary to even do that).  
>   
>  **This Chapter**  
>  **2 x Trigger warnings (both minor)** \- see End Notes.
> 
> (So I'm going to start putting the trigger warnings in the end notes, to make it easier to not see them if you don't want to. I'm going to write a brief vague version (short version) and then a longer version in case readers want to skip completely (long version). I will be marking the warnings as mild, moderate or severe depending on where I think they fall on the spectrum from mildly-problematic/possibly-triggering-for-someone to rather-violent/traumatic. I'm also happy if people want to message me and ask questions. There are somethings that are fully tagged in the tags for dramatic / reveal purposes (but everything will be covered with trigger warnings).)

**Wednesday**

Rian opens his eyes and is greeted by the grey cinder-block wall of his cell. He slips out of the top bunk and retrieves his notebook. He scratches out “108” and writes “107”.

_Fifty right arm push-ups._

Goddamned fucking DJ. 

_Fifty left arm push-ups._

That’s pretty much the extent of Rian’s thoughts the last few days: Goddamned fucking DJ. 

_Fifty right leg squats._

If Rian was just tougher or bigger maybe things would have happened differently.

_Fifty left leg squats._

Rian would love for nothing more than to punch DJ right in his smug toothy smile.

_Fifty crunches._

That should make him feel better, right?

_Fifty mule kicks._

Strangely, the thought of it doesn’t seem to, but he keeps thinking it anyway.

_Fifty burpees._

Rian rests for a moment. Yesterday had really sucked. He had called his mom, told her she would have to push back her plans to come pick him up… again. He had kept the call as short as he could. 

The morning routine is the same as every other day. 

Shower. Mind your own business; watch your back.

Grooming. Because if you looked like shit you’d get treated like shit; alphas were so fucking superficial sometimes.

Breakfast. Trade whatever you don’t need for cigarettes; not that Rian really knows what he’s saving them for. 

Get to work. If you eat breakfast quickly the jizz left on the shower walls from the morning may not be even be dried on by the time you get back. Of course, someone is just going to blow their load all over it the next day, continuing the endless cycle. Rian is the Sisyphus of disgusting bodily fluids.

The shower room is just a big open rectangle, showers along one wall. Rian scrubs his mop over the white tiles where they are bumpier than they should be.

Of course, the _other guy_ on bathroom duty never cleans this shit up. No, it’s always Rian’s job. It’s always Rian’s job to unclog the toilets when someone has taken a massive dump. It’s always Rian’s job to clean the blood off the floor when there’s a fight. It’s never Rian’s job to go get more soap or paper towel, which is what the other guy is doing now. 

Rian hears footsteps approaching. It’s about goddamn fucking time the other guy got back. He’s probably taking his sweet fucking time on purpose so that-

krzzzZZZZAP.

Rian’s angry thoughts desert him at the sound of the stun baton going off behind him. He jumps and freezes, and is overtaken by a dark sense of foreboding. He knows that other than the owner of the stun baton, Rian is completely alone in here.

“Turn around, inmate.” 

_Oh fuck._ It’s Phasma. In a very slow even motion, Rian turns. He keeps one hand lightly on the mop handle, but only so it won’t fall down; the other he raises up above his shoulder.

The guard captain stands about ten feet from him - blocking the nearest exit - a cup of coffee in one hand, stun baton in the other. The stun baton looks like a standard black nightstick, with one difference: a recessed length on one side of the stick, starting about six inches from the tip, in which sits a set of taser prongs, ringed in red for visibility. 

Phasma takes a step forward. Very deliberately she lifts her coffee out in front of her and spills it on the floor. “Looks like you missed a spot.” She stares down at him for a long moment. “Clean it up.”

Slowly Rian steps forward, pulling the mop in front of him.

“Not with that.” She gestures at the mop. “That.” She points to a rag he has tucked at his belt.

Still facing Phasma, Rian slowly steps backwards until he can lean the mop in the corner of the room; she follows his every step with her eyes. He takes the rag from his hip and again approaches. Fuck, with her boots on she was almost as tall as Grummgar. 

Still staring up at her, Rian squats and reaching down to clean the floor.

“Not like that. On your knees, inmate.” If Rian didn’t hear alarm bells in his head earlier, he does now; he doesn’t move. “I said on your _knees,_ ” and she punctuates the last word with a buzz of her stun baton which she is still casually holding at her side. 

Rian has only been tazed a few times since coming to Redguard; it’s unpleasant enough to know he doesn’t want to go through it again. He shifts his weight so he can move one leg under him, and then does the same on the other side. After a moment he can feel the damp from the shower-room floor soaking through the knees of his pants. 

“Such a good boy.” She purrs. “Now clean it up.” Rian leans forward to start mopping up the spilled coffee. To reach it all he has to rest his other hand on the floor for balance, so at times is practically on all fours. 

Phasma starts pacing around him in an arc, moving to stand behind him, out of his line of sight.

He finishes mopping up the coffee. He gets his one leg under him to start to stand but stops when sometime contacts the middle of his back. Before anything is said, the baton discharges. It doesn’t stun him - the taser discharges into the air behind him - but the sound still makes him flinch. 

“Back on your knees, slowly.” 

He brings his leg back down to the floor and sits back on his heels. She’s still behind him. The stun baton suddenly comes up to rest on his shoulder, pushing down with just enough weight to reinforce that he is not to rise.

She starts to walk around him, trailing the baton across the back of his neck and to his other shoulder as she moves in front of him. He keeps his eyes forward, gaze even with her legs. The baton caresses the side of his face, the groove for the taser hooking under the edge of his jaw to tilt his head up. He avoids looking her in the eye. If she wants to power-trip all over him, fine; he’d play along but he wouldn’t make it easy for her.

The baton’s tip slides to the corner of his lips. “Open your mouth.”

Now his eyes go to hers. She can’t be fucking serious.

Slowly she slides the baton across to the center of his lips. “Do it. Open your mouth.”

Rian hopes that on the outside he’s staring daggers at her; on the inside he’s very aware that the red side of the baton is facing upward. He didn’t particularly want to find out what’s going to happen to his eyes if it goes off this close. 

“Three,” she starts counting. She slides her thumb over the taser trigger.

“Two,” All Rian can smell is plastic and ozone; the pressure of the baton tip against his lips is starting to hurt.

Suddenly muffled voices drift in around the corner, from the bathroom entrance; Rian’s not sure, but it sounds like DJ and the other alpha on bathroom duty.

The baton disappears from against his lips, but then Phasma is behind him, swiftly pulling Rian in a headlock. She speaks in a low voice by his ear. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll make sure you never leave this hell hole.” And the next moment she’s dropped him and is walking towards the exit. 

From his hand and knees on the shower room floor, he watches her until she disappears around the corner. He rubs his neck a little. _What the fuck was that?_ Sure, the other guards enjoyed humiliating the inmates, but this was different. Vaguely, it reminds Rian of the last time he was put in a headlock.

* * *

It was a Saturday in late September; Rian had just started twelfth grade year. He and his friends had walked from the school out to a stand of pines not far from the edge of the school grounds. 

“Here. This is the spot,” declared Ben as they came to a slight clearing between the trees.

“Okay, so… what are we doing first?” said Petro. “Picking names?”

At that Ben and Jacen looked at each other. 

“I’m Kylo Ren.”

“No, _I’m_ Kylo Ren.”

A couple weeks prior they had all been in the library together, the seven of them gathered around a long table. Byph was arguing with Zatt. “I’m telling you, amazon warriors were female alphas.”

Zatt rolled his eyes. “That is the dumbest thing you have ever said. Female alphas aren’t a thing. Everyone knows that.” 

Byph turned to Gungi. “You get it, right?” To which the very large teen just shrugged.

Rian had lost interest in their discussion and was skimming the books on the shelf next to him; a title caught his eye. He started reading, quickly losing himself in the pages.

Ben must have noticed that his attention was far away. “Hey Rian, whatcha got?”

Rian didn’t even look up. “ _Alpha Prime: the Rise and Fall of Kylo Ren._ ”

“Who?” asked Jacen.

“A medieval alpha warlord who rose to power and controlled vast territories and armies before his downfall.” Rian supplied.

“How many betas did he have under him?” ask Petro. 

Rian still hadn’t looked up from the page he was on. “The interesting question, is ‘how many _alphas_ did he have under him’.”

“What?” 

Even Byph and Zatt had dropped their conversation at that.

Rian set the book in the middle of the table. There was a picture of a painting of seven dark figures, holding medieval weapons and all wearing helmets. The figure in the center was the tallest and held a long sword. “That was the alpha Kylo Ren,” he said as he pointed to the figure in the center. “And these were his six alpha knights, loyal only to him.”

“Cool.” Byph was leaning forward trying to get a better view.

“Their weapons are cool.” Echoed Zatt. Rian liked the figure on the end, the only one holding a bow.

“Huh, neat.” Ben’s eyes were focused intently at the center figure. So were Jacen’s.

Rian flipped the page. On the next was a painting of two of the knights brandishing their weapons against each other. Most of the onlookers were obscured in shadow, but the artist had painted one in a beam of light; a small willowy female. 

Rian continued, “Ren and his knights had their pick of the omegas in those territories. Occasionally more that one knight would be interested in the same omega; disputes were settled by armed combat.”

This drew whispered comments from the others. Rian glanced up to see Ben and Jacen grinning at each other conspiratorially.

About a week later Ben a declared that they should start a fight club, and they would call themselves the Knights of Ren. 

So that weekend they all ended up under the pines trying to beat the snot out of each other. Neither Ben nor Jacen would give up on being named Kylo Ren, so it was decided that on their first day they would all fight and whoever emerged as champion would be Kylo Ren. 

Which is exactly how Rian ended up in a headlock by Gungi. After several vain attempts to get any kind of counter hold on the other alpha, Rian tapped out and the match was over. Not that it was much of a match to start with. Rian was the smallest of all of them; Gungi was taller than everyone by several inches. 

“Nice try Rian,” Petro said as he patted him on the back. “Who’s next?”

Rian, being the brainy one, had somehow become scorekeeper. “Well that’s three matches for everyone. So far it’s Jacen and Ben who are undefeated so….”

“So let’s do this,” challenged Jacen as he stepped into their impromptu ring. They were all shirtless at this point; less for each other to grab on to.

“Let’s do it then,” replied Ben. “Winner is declared Kylo Ren.”

There was something eerie about the still, quiet moment as the two alphas took their spots across the ring from each other. Ben and Jacen looked... _similar_. They both had dark hair; they were about the same height and build. But they also kind of looked the same. Once you got to know them it was easy to tell them apart, but _sometimes_ it was almost like a mirror come to life. This was one of those moments.

Petro, acting as ref, gave the count. “Three, two, one, _fight._ ”

Their two body slammed together. It was gentleman’s rules: no shots to the face or crotch, no biting, no dirty tricks like throwing dirt in someone’s face. Everything else was a go. Ben’s moves were very linear, direct; he had done karate or something as a kid and it showed. Jacen was just pure aggression. When Ben landed a series of jab’s to Jacen’s ribs, Jacen basically rammed him into a tree.

Everyone else was glued to the fight, shifting out of the way when the fighting got too close.

Jacen was trying to grapple Ben’s leg and flip him, but Ben had his other leg out too wide to be upended. When he tired, Ben was on top of him slamming him back into the ground. Jacen got his legs in between them and tried to kick Ben off, but Ben flowed past him, and got Jacen’s arm in a submission hold, flipping Jacen over and wrenching his arm painfully behind him. Ben tightened and tightened his hold on Jacen’s arm. Jacen’s face was strained and red from the pain. 

Rian had a perfect view of both of them. Ben unwilling to let Jacen go; Jacen unwilling to submit, the angle of his shoulder being pushed into a more and more unnatural angle. Jacen gave a few kicks with his legs, but Ben was too good at avoiding or deflecting them.

“Jacen, tap out.” Petro urged. The really didn’t need someone being shipped to the hospital on the first day.

Jacen ignored him. Ben, also, was not paying attention to anything around him. 

“Count it.” Gungi didn’t say much, but when he did it was usually good advice.

Petro started the count. Jacen only redoubled his efforts to get free, but to no avail. “...nine… ten. That’s it. You’re done. Ben wins.”

Ben dropped the hold and Jacen, and let out a primal shout of dominance. He took a step away, leaving Jacen to pick himself up. Rian noticed that Ben's pants were tented slightly more than they should have been; being at the school Rian had gotten used to ignoring such things.

Jacen bitterly punched the ground, “Fuck!” He brushed himself off and went to sulk at the end of the ring.

“Rian, where’s that list.” Ben held out his hand. He had asked Rian to make a list of the knights, with their names and defining characteristics. Rian handed it over and Ben took a moment to read it over. Then he started. “Alright… as Kylo Ren I’m going to give you my loyal knights all names. Jacen, you will be Caedus, my second in command.” Jacen nodded grudgingly. “Gungi…” Ben handed out the names, sometimes giving reasons, sometimes not. Little cheers went up as each received their name. As he neared the end of the list Rian started to smile because the name he had wanted had not been given yet. “And Rian,” he finally called. “You will be the archer, Acheron, raining down a river of death on your enemies.” The other guys gave a holler, and someone gave him a punch on the shoulder. It felt good to be part of the pack.

Ben grabbed his shirt off the ground. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here, I’m fucking starving.” And they all walked back to the school for the evening meal.

* * *

Rian’s eye dart around the cafeteria as he enters. Ziff is already at their usual table so Rian lines up alone for his meal. 

Ziff barely looks up from his sketchbook as Rian sits. The drawing he’s working on is typical Ziff. A female, half clothed being bent over a cafeteria table by a partially drawn male torso. She’s smiling and has has little fox ears, one of the quirky things Ziff and some of his clients seem to like. “Hey, I heard that the new warden starts next week. Gerrera. Have you heard-” He pauses and sniffs, and looks up at Rian. “What the fuck happened to you?”

 _Shit._ Rian had hoped it wouldn’t be noticeable. He had washed his glands down before he came to the cafeteria, but any scents he had thrown off during his altercation with Phasma are probably still on his clothes. He tries to act casual. “Nothing.”

Ziff sniffs again. “That’s not nothing.” The usual jovial alpha looks concerned. “What happened, who was it?” He names off several of the less well behaved alphas on the block.

Rian looks away. “No. It wasn’t like that.”

Ziff looks at him like he doesn’t believe him. Rian goes to eat but Ziff is still staring at him.

Rian’s shoulder slump and he lowers his voice. “You can’t tell anyone.” Ziff nods, still dead serious. Rian leans in - Ziff mirrors him - and practically whispers. “Fucking Phasma jumped me in the showers, okay?”

The serious look on Ziff’s face cracks, and he bursts out laughing.

Rian should have known. “Great.” Ziff is pounding his fist on the table as he tries to stop laughing. “I get put in a headlock and this is the sympathy I get.” He was happy to give away _that_ detail if it meant he might avoid having to give out others. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Ziff finally stops laughing and again in a serious tone he asks, “Was it good for you?” followed by another round of laughter.

Now Rian feels truly pissed. “Fuck off Ziff.” His scent must have spiked because a few neighbouring alphas glanced over to them.

“Hey chill out. I’m just messin’ with ya. Whatever happened you need to get over it because your scent is drawing a giant target on your back; or it was. You're welcome by the way. Don’t let her bug you. You’re not the first one she’s pulled that sort of shit on. Phasma’s weird.” 

“Yeah.” There’s something else too, something about her. It’s right on the tip of his tongue, but it’s like he doesn’t know what it is until he says it out loud. He spits it out, mostly to himself. “She smells weird.” She did, didn’t she?

“Oh yeah? How would you know what beta chicks smell like?” Ziff says skeptically. “And don’t say because of your mom and your sister because family always smells different.”

Rian would normally just keep his mouth shut, but something in him wanted to show Ziff up, just this once; he was tired of feeling brushed aside. “For you information... I had a girlfriend once.” 

Ziff actually stops drawing and looks up from his sketchbook. “Holy shit. You... had a girlfriend. And since you came here you have never once thought to mention this?” He flips to an empty page.

 _Uh-oh._ This was a mistake. “I don’t like to talk about it.” He actually really doesn’t, and now he’s kicking himself for mentioning it.

“Was she cute?” 

“I’m not going to tell you what she looked like.” Because if he does, Ziff will draw her.

“Ah come on, man.” Given his limited access to the outside world, Ziff was always hungry for inspiration. The first year that Rian was at the prison, Ziff spent most evenings coaxing Rian to slowly recount every a/o porn flick he could remember, stopping him only if Ziff had seen the same one. Even after Rian’s memory had been scoured dry, Ziff would still occasionally ask Rian for suggestions on what do draw next: which girl, which position, what setting. When a story about any male/female relationship came up, Ziff always wanted the details.

“There really isn’t a lot to tell.”

“Yeah but tell me anyway.”

“I said, I don’t like talking about it.” 

“Just tell me something, anything.”

“Look will you just fuck off about it?” It came out harsher than he meant, or at least harsher than he meant before and after he said it. While he was saying it… maybe he did mean it then.

“Fine,” is all Ziff says in return. He turns the page back to continue his previous sketch. They don’t speak for the rest of the meal.

The afternoon passes uneventfully. 

That evening, after lock up, Ziff doesn’t bother him for drawing suggestions. Rian just sits on his bunk, back to the wall. He stares out of the bars of his cell, and just before lights out, just for a moment, he has the feeling that he’s never going to get out of this place. That he will be stuck here forever.

When Rian dreams that night, he’s in the clearing in the pines. 

Only he’s not really Rian; he’s wearing all black. The omega to be fought for, the one with the golden hair, stands at the edge of the clearing, wearing a floor-length dress. She’s cheering for him. 

Only he’s not winning. She’s pleading for him to fight harder, but he loses over and over again, and each time he loses she recedes further into the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Triggers warnings (short version)**  
>  1 - There is a non-con, powertrip verging on BDSM scene that doesn't go very far; male victim.  
> 2 - There is a fight scene (wrestling/ hand to hand combat); all participants are taking part voluntarily. No permanent injuries.
> 
>  **Triggers warnings (long version)**  
>  1 - Phasma tries to assault/(dominate?) Rian when he is alone cleaning the showers; there are sexual overtones. The assault is interrupted. Rian survives intact, but experience fear during the encounter and embarrassment afterwards. Starting after "krrrrzzzZZZAP".  
> 2 - The Knight of Ren fight club is formed when Rian and Ben are in their twelfth grade year. The scene depicts a couple of the fights that 'the boys' have on the club's first day. Rian loses his fight(s). Ben defeats his friend Jacen in the final match, and takes for himself the name Kylo Ren.
> 
> * * *
> 
> As Palpatine once said: "Use your aggressive feelings boy. Let the hate flow through you."
> 
> Poor Rian.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I actually did run the rough idea for this KOR origin story past Isha months ago. So fun to get it on paper.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam.
> 
>  **Trigger Warning, mild** \- see end notes.

**Thursday...**

By the time classes had ended on Monday, Luke was surprised to realize that Ezra hadn’t come to claim his phone yet. The kids practically lived on them, even though most of their social circle lived within a few hundred meters of them.

Luke had hoped that Ezra would come to meditation class Tuesday morning, but he didn’t show his face there either. Luke had struggled with the meditation, his thoughts still wanting to wander back to Kaydel. But Luke did as the Jedi masters taught, acknowledging those intrusions and letting them go, bringing his attention back to his breath. 

By Wednesday Ezra still hadn’t claimed his phone, so Luke looked up his schedule and tried to catch him in the halls between classes but somehow he could never find him. Luke could just pull him out of class, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to do when he was he who owed Ezra an apology.

In any case, it was on Wednesday that Luke finally noticed that the thoughts of Kaydel weren’t as frequent, that he was starting to feel more like his _usual_ self.

His sleep had been horrible all week, so early Thursday morning he still feels tired as he watches the handful of students trickle into the gym for meditation. Luke notes that B.B. is attending today, so he’ll sign his instructions as well as speaking them. The students quickly settle and Luke begins. 

“We’ll start with the Code, and go straight into meditation.” On other days he might give more instruction but everyone present has attended before. “Close your eyes.” He signs that as well, but B.B. knows he doesn’t have to. “Breathe.” And he too takes a deep breath.

With Luke leading, the students speak with him. “ _There is no emotion, there is peace._ ”

The voices reverberate around the room. _“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._ ”

It’s a calming sound, but Luke shouldn’t be thinking about that. “ _There is no passion, there is serenity._ ”

He should be focusing on the words and his breath. “ _There is no chaos, there is harmony._ ”

Chaos. That’s what the last few days have been like, clouded with thoughts of Kaydel. And with that thought her face plays across his mind; she’s sipping coffee, listening to him intently. He pushes the errant thought away and realizes he’s completely missed the last line of the Code. But that’s fine; the students finished without him. It’s important that they can do that.

He takes a deep breath, and tries to recenter himself. 

That was only the second time he had thought of Kaydel today, the first being right after he woke. Given how distracted his mind has been the last few days, it seems like a marked improvement. At first this leads him to believe that today’s meditation will be mostly free from disruption, and in one way he is right in that he does not think of Kaydel again until much later in the day. What he doesn’t expect is the other face that appears to him, one that again and again he struggles to let go. 

* * *

At the end of Ben’s twelfth grade year, the school’s English teacher retired. Luke tried to get her to stay on one more time but she wasn’t interested, so Luke posted the position and by the end of the summer had only received one application. When it came time to interview the applicant, the school’s main building was under extensive renovations, so they agreed to meet at a diner in town instead. 

It was mid-morning. When Luke walked in the diner smelled strongly of coffee despite being mostly empty. A woman in a dark purple pant-suit looked up and waved to him. He walked over. “Hi, you must be Mara.” 

She stood as he approached and shook his hand. “Hi, yes. Nice to meet you Mr. Skywalker.” The woman’s outfit went well with her shoulder length red hair. Luke always noticed when women had red hair; he had had a thing for redheads when he was younger. 

“Please just call me Luke.” They sat and the waitress brought him coffee. “So Mara, tell me about yourself.” The last thing he needed was to accidently hire someone with an anti-alpha agenda.

“Well I did teachers college in Ontario, but I ended up moving out west and I’ve been teaching English for the last twenty years or so. Mostly grade eleven and twelve recently.” 

“What made you apply to Yavingard?” _Why are you willing to teach alphas?_ was what he was really asking.

“Ah, well actually, I grew up here in Eisley. And I, ah-” Her lips pressed together as she glanced down for a moment. “Would it be okay if I’m just frank about my situation?”

“Frank is good.” Luke nodded for her to continue.

“Well I originally moved out west because I got married, and after twenty years of that I realized our relationship wasn’t what I wanted. And then my mother got sick with cancer-”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You don’t-”

“No, it’s alright. Ah, so last summer I packed my things and came home to look after my mom. I got my divorce to go through over the winter and my mom passed away in the spring.”

“I am very sorry to hear that.” He really was. He now understood why she didn’t have any work listed for the last year.

She looked away a moment and then looked back. “It’s okay. He was an asshole.”

He shared her sad laugh, knowing she knew that’s not what he meant.

“So anyway, since I inherited the house I thought I’d just try to find work in the area, but it’s been harder than I thought to break into the regular school system’s hiring pool since I don’t have any seniority here. Anyway, then I saw the ad for your position and thought, ‘what the heck? How can it be any different?’” She looked him straight in the eye as she said the last part and gave a little shrug.

 _Willing to see the alpha students as normal kids: check_. The corners of Luke’s mouth curled up. Maybe this was going to work out just fine. “Well, again, I’m so sorry about your circumstances. But I really don’t see any reason why you wouldn’t be a good fit. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Ahh, just what would you want the curriculum to be? What did the last teacher do? How much would you want me to stick to that?”

“Oh here.” He handed her some of the papers he had brought. “These are the lesson plans and evaluation schemes for the different grades.” He looked at her gazing down at the paper. “The starred titles are mandatory. Beyond that, though, I’m happy for you to teach whatever you want. Including historical works.” Pre-war works. “We actually have a fairly good collection.”

Her eyes brightened at that. “Oh really? I studied historical in university, but I’ve never had the chance to teach it. What do you have?”

“Ah, a lot actually. All the big writers.”

“Do... you have Shakespeare?”

Luke smiled. “Actually we do, though not class sets. But anything that’s public domain you can photocopy as much as you want.”

Mara beamed. “Wow. That would actually be a lot of fun.”

“Unfortunately the library and classrooms are off limits until they finish repairs on the school, which probably won’t be until the week before school starts.”

“That’s okay, I can prep a few months of classes off of this list.” She seemed to remember herself. “Ah - that is if I get the job.” She looked at him expectantly.

“I’ll be honest with you. You’re the only one that applied. As far as I’m concerned it’s yours if you want it.”

She responded immediately a huge smile across her face. “Yes I do.”

Luke grinned at her enthusiasm. “Umm, _before_ you say ‘yes’,” he held up a finger, “there is one other thing.” This was it, this was the part that sometimes didn’t go as planned. “I just need to be sure that you are comfortable working with alphas.”

She nodded and looked at the table. “You know I’ve been thinking a lot about that since I applied. And really, I don’t know exactly what it’s going to be like, but… they’re just kids... teens, young men, whatever you want to call them. I’m... I’m pretty sure it I’m fine with it.”

Luke watched her as she spoke, not interrupting; not wanting to rush this next part. “It’s not just the kids.” He had taken his wallet out, and he passed her his driver’s license. Beside designation it listed: α - mc. 

Ever since Luke started as headmaster, he had been upfront about his designation with all of the staff at the school; from teachers to cooks to janitors. For new hires he usually told them on a second interview, the one where he was actually offering them the position; this time he didn’t have to wait. He’s had people walk out. He’s had people drop his licence as if it had burned them. He’s also had lots of people finish the interview promisingly, only to later decline the position by phone or just not call back. Working under an alpha wasn’t quite the same as working with alphas.

He watched Mara’s face as she studied the plastic card. She glanced up to him for a moment and then back at the card. When she looked up at him again she gave a small shrug. “Yeah, that’s okay. I didn’t know, but… I’m okay with that.” She handed the card back to them and just smiled when their fingers accidently touched.

Luke smiled too. Her acceptance seemed genuine and it put a warm feeling in Luke’s chest. “Ah, so if you’re still interested-”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, yes I am.” A smile spread across her face.

“Then welcome to Yavingard.” They moved to shake hands. “Here.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to them. “You’re going to need to learn this.” And he moved his hand past hers to grasp her forearm; she returned his grip and looked up at him, and again she smiled. 

* * *

The rest of Thursday passes without any sign of Ezra. It’s the same on Friday; Ezra doesn’t even come to movie night.

The movie this week is a 1950’s Samurai flick, one of Luke’s favourites. The movie selections weren’t supposed to contain violence (Luke’s rule), but he would allow it if the movies had non-derogatory alpha content. He had always felt it was important to teach the kids about where alphas used to fit into society. Luke had loved these movies as a teenager. Before he took over for Palpatine, he had even taken sword lessons for a few years. He had tried to teach himself the Jedi sword forms, but without a teacher he had really only scratched the basics.

After the movie he retires to his study. He makes himself tea while he boots up his computer. The first few days after returning, he had checked his email constantly, worried that Kaydel might try to contact him and he might miss it. Today he had managed to only check a few times from his office. Things were getting back to normal.

On the desk next to him sits Rian’s file. Luke had gone over it twice already. Rian had been a model student. His grades had been excellent. Any comments from his teachers were always glowing. He had started the archery club in his twelfth grade year. The only time he had been in trouble was when Luke had caught him, Ben and their friends organizing fights between each other.

He sips his teas as he logs into his email and, predictably, freezes a moment when he sees that one of the emails is from Kaydel. He clicks it open. 

_Hi Mr. Skywalker,_

_It was very nice meeting you on Saturday. I was wondering if I could call you sometime. I have some more questions about your ideas for the paper. (If you want you can call me at…_

The email was sent just after five; he would have left the office by then. 

He unlocks his phone before he even really thinks about it. He glances the clock. It’s almost ten; he’s not sure if she should still call this late. A day or so ago he wouldn’t have debated it. He texts her instead.

 **Luke:** Hi Kaydel. I’m happy to talk about your paper any time.

At least she was doing her part to keep up her cover story; at least they had a cover story that let him remain in contact with her, he thinks.

He’s half-way through creating a contact for her when his phone rings. “Kaydel?”

“Hi, Luke?”

His eyes close at the sound of her voice. In theory his medication should be working better now, and in theory his testosterone should be dropping back down, quieting his alpha. But Luke still finds her voice strangely soothing, like warm water washing through him. “Yeah. Is everything okay..? With your research?” he adds quickly. 

“I…” There is a long pause.

She had only spoken one more word, but in that syllable there was a chord of distress. He could feel himself tuning out the rest of the world and just focusing on the sound of her voice. “What is it?” he asks.

“I… I think I’m just having a hard time adjusting to everything. It’s a lot of new information.”

His breath came out in a sigh. He was relieved that she wasn’t hurt (why would she even be hurt?), but she still sounded a little upset; hearing that was like taking a sword to the gut. “How can I help?” 

“I guess I’m still just trying to figure out how it all fits together…. I feel dumb for not having figured this out sooner.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. These things aren’t always clear.” If anyone was listening to their conversation, it would have sounded like a mentor giving advice to a self-critical student on their research, but Luke knew that’s not what they were talking about.

“But I had so many clues.”

He’s shaking his head even though she can’t see her. “No one thinks any less of you for not having seen it. You have all the right information now and that’s what matters.”

She’s quiet for a time. “Dr. Statura has been acting differently towards me… since I showed him the new data.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“I’m just not sure I know how to act around him now.”

“I’ve known Statura a long time. I think it’s just a sign that he cares about you as a student. He would probably bend over backwards to help you if you ever needed it.” Short of selling his child, there were probably a lot of things that Statura would do for her. “Just try to relax, be yourself around him.” 

“Okay…” It was a rather unconvincing ‘okay’.

“You sound doubtful.”

“I… sometimes I feel that I’m in way over my head, with my masters. I’m supposed to be an expert on alphas, but I feel like there are so many things that I still don’t understand.” Luke can hear the self doubt in her voice; it makes his heart feel heavy. “Like scenting and pheromones. I’ve read all about it… but I still don’t feel like I understand it.”

She’s such a clever girl. “I don’t think anyone is going to hold that against you. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll figure things out as your research progresses.” He means it, though after he says it the image of her and Rian buried in each other’s necks taunts him. He rests his hand on the edge of Rian’s file, tapping the manilla file folder. “You’re a great student. And this latest glitch in your research will work out; you just need to be patient.”

He could hear her take a deep breath on the other end of the line. “Okay.” There was a pause, then, “Luke?”

“Yeah?” He had thought he had escaped her, but as he hangs on her every word, he realizes he had been wrong.

“Thanks. For your help.” Again there was a soft pause on the phone. “Could I call you again some time?”

He had been dead wrong. “Of course.” This wasn’t about hormones any more. He didn’t know how she did it, but in less than a week she somehow found a place for herself deep down in his soul, below beyond rational thought. Perhaps Statura would do almost anything for Kaydel, but Luke was fairly sure that he would do _anything_ for her. “Anytime.” 

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Kaydel.”

And that night, perhaps because he was bid a good one, Luke’s sleep is more restful than it has been in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning (short version):** There is a mention of a family member of one of the on screen characters having and dying of a terminal illness.
> 
>  **Trigger Warning (long version):** In the flashback, it's Mara's mom that gets cancer and passes away; this comes up in her conversation with Luke.
> 
> Has anyone else noticed that the following are ALMOST anagrams of each other?  
>  **REY KENOB** I  
>  **BE** N **KY** L **O REN**
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _Be yourself._  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for a preview of things to come; yes we are earning tags today.

**Saturday...**

Kaydel sits at her desk, powering through the reference materials from Ackbar. Everything about narrative analysis looked very manageable - a lot of it was common sense - it was just different than what she was used to doing, which at the moment seemed like a fabulous metaphor for her life. She finishes reading the last of the style articles and stretches her arms over her head. 

So far the day is shaping up much better than Friday. On Friday morning things had started to feel off when she had found that Luke’s scent was almost undetectable on her coat. She had told herself that this was fine; she had been expecting that to happen. Then she had gone to TA her weekly stats session, which she normally enjoyed, but the whole time she felt on edge. She kept worrying that someone was going to _notice_ ; that someone would stand too close and smell her, or just that they would be able to look at her and _know_. On her way home she actually took a short detour to buy perfume - something she normally would _never_ wear - with the hope that it would make her feel less self conscious. 

By the time she got back to the apartment she was incredibly relieved at being able to lock herself away from other people. But once in her room she had gone to her closet, only to find that she really, _really_ couldn’t smell Luke’s scent - especially after having just smelled a dozen different perfumes at the store - and this left her feeling lost, ungrounded. She had sat on her bed, wrapped in her comforter, for a good twenty minutes talking herself down, telling herself that she didn’t need it, that his scent was a false assurance to start with.

Despite the rational self talk, the rest of the afternoon was still unproductive. She couldn’t concentrate on her work so she just browsed some news sites and alpha-rights forums, but after a time even that was hard to focus on. She finally broke down at the end of the day and emailed Luke; she didn’t know what she was looking for, just that it felt better when she was reaching out to him. But then he didn’t call or write back right away. She knew it was irrational to expect this, but she still couldn’t stop herself from checking her email and phone every thirty minutes.

Every passing minute was uncomfortable but after several hours it seemed... manageable. By nine o’clock she had kind of given up on hearing from Luke that day. She told herself that things would be okay, that it was fine that he didn’t call, because who knows when he might check his email next. But then, as she was getting ready to go to bed early, his text appeared, as if she was being rewarded for moving past her earlier neediness.

When she heard his voice it was as if he was right there beside her, unwinding the tension that had built up in her during the day. By the end of their conversation she felt completely at peace - she felt like herself again - and that sense of tranquility had continued to the morning when she woke.

She felt good knowing he was just a phone call away, even if they couldn’t speak openly (she understood Leia’s rule about maintaining radio-silence regarding her designation and did not begrudge them. Kaydel had followed the news closely when the Americans were caught spying the public using mass surveillance, particularly how a whole division had been dedicated to monitoring alphas and omegas [primarily over phone, text and email, since alphas were banned from most social media platforms]. It wasn’t supposed to be happening any more, but it was impossible to know for sure). 

But the calm that she felt after speaking to Luke also raised more questions, like ‘why?’. Why had his scent had such an effect on her (he had said his scent was reduced because of his medication, so why did this pull feel so strong)? And why had she felt so empty when it she could no longer smell it? And why was his voice the only thing that made that emptiness feel better? Did this mean that she was going to spaz out every few days and have to call him? Was is going to be worse going forward without his scent around? And most confusingly, what did it _mean_. The phrase ‘needy omega’ kept taunting her, and she kept pushing it away.

Whatever the answer, it was Kaydel’s secret that she felt this way. No one else needed to know. She was pretty sure she would die from embarrassment if Luke found out. Kaydel could keep her mouth shut; she had been doing that her whole life, not saying how she felt on the inside. 

By Saturday evening she actually feels rather bitter about these thoughts feelings of dependency, so when Lusica asks if she wants to go clubbing Kaydel immediately says ‘yes’.

A few hours later they are at one of the larger clubs in the city. It’s loud and crowded, and Kaydel realizes how much she’s missed going out with Lusica. Masters-student-Kaydel may be mousy and nervous depending on who she’s talking to, but anonymous-Kaydel, hanging-out-with-Lusica-Kaydel, could do anything. Luke had said that she should _be herself_ ; if she had to pin it down she probably would say she most felt like herself when her and Lusica were out on the town.

They pace themselves on drinks, and alternate between watching the crowd and dancing. Throughout the night Lusica points out several male specimens that would normally be Kaydel’s type, but Kaydel just looks. Sometime after midnight they stumble out onto the street, arm in arm, and walk themselves back to their apartment. 

The try not to giggle too loudly as they walk past the other units in their building. Kaydel warms some broth in the microwave, their ritual attempt at avoiding a hangover the next day, and after finishing they say goodnight. 

In her room Kaydel feels too tired and unsteady to do much more than flop down in bed, but the moment that’s she’s horizontal she feels much too wired to sleep. It had felt so good to have the bass of the music pounding through her body. She had snuck surreptitious glances at some of the couples that had been at the club, hands all over each others’ bodies as they danced. Her own hands comes up and caress her torso. Rian’s face flashes across her mind and she wonders if he likes dancing, if he would put his hands on her like that. Her hands rove up and down, cupping her breasts and brushing past her nipples. She moves a hand down to cup herself over her skirt and groans softly. It’s not the first time that she’s touched herself thinking of him, but it’s the first time since she _found out_. 

She’s still nicely buzzed from the drinks at the club, and decides that this is _far_ too good of an opportunity to pass up. Kaydel shimmies out of her skirt and underwear, and takes off her top, leaving just her bra. She rolls over to her bedside table and from the drawer pulls out her trusty bullet and vibrating dildo, her current favourite combination of sex toys. The later she sets next to her; the former she holds, bullet in one hand, controller the other, attached by a thin wire.

She covers herself with just a sheet, rests her head back and closes her eyes. 

She’s in the interview room at Redguard. The lights are dim and the other booths are empty. Two faceless guards bring in the next research subject, handcuffed, seating him on the other side of the DO NOT TOUCH glass. 

She holds a clipboard with a survey. She’s dressed in white blouse, beige skirt and black high heels. She glances at the guards who have hung around the back of the room. “You may go,” she says and they leave without question.

She chews briefly on the end of her pen. “Hello, Mr. Casterman.” 

His eyes haven’t left her since he entered the room. He flexes his wrist out of habit, the muscles in his forearm bulging. “Hello,” his voice is low and breathy.

She continues. “Thank you for volunteering for another research survey. Shall we begin?”

He nods. 

Kaydel watches him as she uncrosses and re-crosses her legs; his gaze stays fixed on her face, but he shifts in his chair. “When was the last time you were in rut?”

“After the last time you were here,” he says, his eyes smouldering into her.

“Would you like to take part in the physical exam portion of the interview?”

“Very much so.”

Kaydel sets her clipboard on the little ledge by the glass. She opens the door next to her (a door that doesn’t exist at the real Redguard Correctional Institute) with her key card and walks through to the inmate side of the room.

Rian is still sitting in the metal chair, but the angle of the chair has changed to face where she enters from. The handcuffs he was wearing before seem to have disappeared. Kaydel walks over to him, confidently. She holds a measuring tape in one hand; a proper one for a tailor, not one of the flimsy paper ones. 

As she approaches, Rian stays perfectly still, only widening his legs so she can step between them at the last moment. She drapes the measuring tape over his head and around his shoulder, letting the ends hang down his chest. In one hand she grips both sides together - like a tie - and she moves to sit on one of his thighs. Her other hand comes up to his face and she strokes a finger lightly down his cheek. “I’ve missed you,” she says softly. 

“I’ve missed you too,” he murmurs back. She runs her fingers through his hair and lets her lips find his. He is highly receptive, and wraps his arms around her. Kaydel turns her bullet to the lowest setting and starts to rub herself with it.

Rian scoops her up - with his powerful arms - briefly so that he can move his legs together, and then sets her back down in his lap. He hip now rubs up against the stiffness pressing at the front of his pants. 

She lets the measuring tape go so that she can run both hands through his hair. Their tongues slide against each other, and more than once their teeth clash hungrily. He slows their kisses and rests his forehead against hers. “I’ve never used any of my conjugal visits; I’m entitled to one.” 

Her eyes flit up and down his face. “I know,” she says, and she redoubles the intensity of her kisses. 

With no further prompting Rian scoops her up in an bridal carry and stands in one smooth motion. He walks them to the back of the room and opens a door, carrying her through. The lights are low and the room contains only one object in the room: a bed, with an old metal frame and grubby sheets. But she doesn’t care about the sheets as he sets her down because he’s pulling open her blouse and sucking on her nipples. He runs a hand up her skirt to find that she’s not wearing any underwear. 

“You’re so wet,” he says as he slides two fingers up into her, giving her a delicious stretch. Along with this thought Kaydel finds the dildo next to her and slots it home. She brings her legs together so that the handle of the dildo catches against her thighs, and all she has to do is buck her hips gently to get the sensation of pressure from it. After dialing the dildo’s vibrator to low, her hand goes back to the bullet’s controller.

Rian’s fingers work in and out of her. She crushes his face to her chest, nails running against his scalp in a way he seems to like. 

“Come on,” she says. “We don’t have much time.” 

Rian pulls back to pull off his shirt, revealing a set of abs that match his forearms. There is a tuft of hair that creeps above his belt line. He undoes his fly, letting his cock free of it’s confines. He crawls back over her, brushing up against her entrance. “Do you want all of it?”

Her body aches for him. “Very much so.” 

He buries his face in her neck as he plunges into her with a long slow stroke. She buck her hips to meet him and turns up the bullet. 

He mouths at her ear as he set a slowly quickening pace. “I want to make you come.” One of his hands trailed up and down her side. “Do you want my knot?”

“I do.” She was close. She turned the bullet up to high. 

He picks his pace. “It’s all for you.” He’s slamming back and forth into her, when he starts to stutter. With a cracked voice he manages, “Come for me.”

As her orgasm brakes she has to shift the bullet back down to medium or she wasn’t going to be able to hold on. The waves of it spread through her pelvis and her thighs and her torso in delicious ecstasy. She holds herself still to ride out every pulse. When most of it has passed she turns the bullet off, and dials the dildo to zero. 

She bucks her hips again against the dildo, and she wonders what Rian’s knot would feel like - both the knot itself, and also it inside her. Even before last week’s revelations, she’s tried to imagine what knots feel like but has always drawn a blank; she had no reference point. It was like someone trying to imagine an orgasm before they’ve ever had one, or trying to visualize four-dimensional space (something Kaydel has also spent time trying to do). She closes her eyes and gyrates her hip one last time before removing her phallic substitute. She smiles at how satisfied she feels, even though there was so much missing from this fantasy.

She never did the ‘alpha-talk’ thing in her fantasies. She had read it in a/o smut books, she had heard it in a/o porn. She had tried, long ago, incorporating it into her fantasies but it always felt fake. Whether that was going to change in the future was one question that she hadn’t had the nerve to ask Dr. Holdo.

Scent, of course, was also missing from her fantasy. She has no idea what Rian smelled like. Her brain keeps reminding her that she knew one alpha’s scent, but she would immediately push such thoughts away; it was too confusing to think of _that_ scent at a time like _this_. It would probably be easier to avoid such thoughts if she only knew Rian’s scent.

Kaydel’s eyes pop open.

_Right?_

Mostly naked, and still a little drunk, Kaydel peels herself out of her blankets, and wakes up her laptop. It takes her a few minutes to find Jessica’s email on the departmental website and it takes many more to put together a nicely worded email - one that she thinks doesn’t sound inebriated. She reads it over one last time and hits send.

 _Be yourself,_ Luke had said. And one of the things that Kaydel was, was a masters student - one with a very bad crush on a certain boy.

* * *

When Kaydel wakes in the morning she pulls her laptop into bed to check her email. She’s really not expecting a reply, but apparently Jess had pulled an all nighter at the lab, synthesizing a batch of artificial pheromones. 

_> > Hey Jess. I actually had a couple of questions about your pheromone research. Do you ever send samples to alphas in prison (that’s where all of my research alphas are)? _

_We actually got ethics approval to do that, but then we realized that we couldn’t organize phone interviews with the inmates. We looked at sending them questionnaires, but Ackbar is very into the free narrative expression thing - he believes it’s the best quality data. (Sorry this is getting long) So we haven’t been, but it can be done as long as survey data is all you need._

_> > I’m working on my PhD proposal and I’m considering doing something with scent. If you can send me anything about your protocols that would be super helpful. I would totally credit you on anything that ended up producing a paper._

_Deal. See attached._

Kaydel feels only a little bad about bending the truth in her email. There was only one reason she wanted this information and it wasn’t so she could publish a paper. Maybe one day she could tell Jess the truth of the situation (she has a feeling Jess would forgive her if she knew why).

Kaydel spends the day editing the materials from Jessica, taking breaks to eat at lunch (leftovers; meh) and supper (sushi restaurant with Lusica; excellent). 

In the evening she re-reads her final draft a couple more times, catching what she hopes are the last of her typos. At the very least it looks authentic, even if some of the questions are a little less formal than usual. She loads the file on a thumb drive and sets it by her laptop. Now all she has to do is wait until tomorrow when she can put step two into action.

She takes Rian’s photo out from its hiding spot. A pulse of desire spread through her as she remembers her fantasy from the night before. At least if she flunks out of her masters she could write cheesy a/o porn plots. Of course if you looked (and Kaydel had) there was more than enough cheesy, fake a/o porn to spare on the internet. The real trick was finding the real stuff (which Kaydel had also looked for, but seldom found). 

A fuzzy memory stirs in the back of her mind, one that involves bodies and women with big eyes looking past the camera.

She opens her browser and then her browser history. She scrolls back the week past… and there it was, right smack in the middle of her recent ‘illness’: omegasinheat.com. She must have found it when she was fevered and delirious. She had kind of forgotten about it. She clicks the link to the main page. 

On an otherwise blank, black page she’s prompted to enter her date of birth. She puts in something random that makes her at least eighteen and she’s rewarded with a series of thumbnail videos of bodies coupling in the banner. The males are well muscles and broad shouldered; the females are pretty and slight. She’s prompted to choose one of the following portals: “See more of her”; “See more of him”. Each button has a looped video of a couple fucking on it, but the camera angle focuses on the female for the first and the male in the second.

 _That_ is interesting. Most a/o porn was like beta porn, focusing on the girl being the object of male ‘affections’. She hovers her mouse over the second button and she clicks. Annoyingly there is an in-screen prompt to accept cookies, but when she clicks through she’s pleasantly surprised to find just what had been promised: a selection of what look like real a/o videos, with camera angles focusing on the male of the couple. How very intriguing.

She puts her laptop to sleep for a moment while she scoots out to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine and hurries back. _This_ was totally worth celebrating. 

When she gets back she scrolls down. There are a good number of videos. To start she selects one of a blond alpha who holds a passing likeness to Rian. She watches several, listening with her headphones. Many of the couple don’t speak English; she thinks some sound like Russian, but she really has no idea. But she’s still able to pick out the which words she thinks translate to ‘alpha’ and ‘omega’. They sound completely natural when said. She keeps watching even after she has finished her wine; this is important behavioural research after all. After, she lays down and fucks herself with her sextoys, this time with all new thoughts of what things might be like with Rian.

* * *

On Monday morning, Kaydel wakes up early. She actually eats a breakfast and is showered, dressed and out the door before 10AM (which would normally require extra alarm clocks and coffee but today this miracle occurs spontaneously).

Kaydel pauses as she stands outside Statura’s office door, a pang of trepidation running through her. But as she stands there she hears a voice encouraging her. _Relax, be yourself._ She takes a deep breath, knocks and enters when she hears Statura call from inside. 

The researcher is at his desk, intently reading something on his laptop. He does a double take when he glances up at her. “Kaydel. Hi. Good morning. How are you?” He ushers her to a chair. 

“Really good.” It had been a very _educational_ weekend after all. “Ah - I got through the style references that Dr. Ackbar gave me. I think the analysis should go smoothly.”

“Oh, good, good,” he says as he seats himself again. “I’m glad to hear that.” He clasps his hands in front of him; Kaydel was getting that nervous vibe off of him again.

 _Relax_. 

She lets her gaze fall casually around the room. “You know it’s too bad we’re scrapping the other stuff. I’ve had all kinds of ideas for follow up studies in the last week.”

“Oh?” At this Statura less

“Yeah, I was thinking that if ambient alpha pheromones are suppressing secondary alphas, we should compare the incidence of presentation in areas where there would still be some - like in communities where there are alpha prison units - compared to areas where there aren’t. In theory the prison staff would still be picking up alpha pheromones from the inmates and spreading them around the community.”

“Huh.” Kaydel could see the wheels turning in Statura’s head. This is exactly what epidemiology was about: looking for trends at the population level. “That would be interesting.” It was the perfect bait. 

“The one confounder would be people moving in and out of communities, but I think the effect would be pretty minimal.” 

The migration of individuals across populations was a confounder for most epidemiological studies - this was Statura’s language. “Hmm.” He leans back and steeples his fingers. He was probably considering where to pull the best data from.

Okay, time to doubledown. “I had also noticed, and I was going to bring this up last week, but things got in the way, that on the age-of-presentation data, that as more segregation rules were introduced, that there aren’t just more alphas presenting, they are also starting to present _younger_. Between alphas in the 90’s are starting to present about two years earlier than the alphas in the 50’s. We could have included that in the paper if we had published, or done it as a follow up.”

“Hmm.” It was clear the Statura felt torn at the mention of Kaydel having to bury her research. “You know... all that stuff, you really should write it down somewhere safe. There might be a time in the future when you could publish what you have and do that other study.”

She smiles. “I’m glad you like it.” She lets the spectre of her research efforts hang in the air for a moment. And now for the curve ball. “Anyway, there is one other study that I need to do, and I was hoping you could help me get started right away.”

Statura blinks, confused. “What study?”

She tosses him the USB key and he grabs it awkwardly. “We’re going to send a pheromone sample and a survey to one of the inmates I interviewed.”

“What pheromone sample? Which inmate?”

“My pheromone sample. The inmate that I’d like to meet.”

“Oh no no no no no no nooo.” Statura jerks forward in his chair and sets the USB key down back in front of Kaydel. “I can’t help you do that.”

“Sure you can.” She moves the USB back to his side of the desk.

“Even if I thought it was okay - and I don’t - you can’t just _do_ that. You would need proper ethics clearance to get it into the prison.” He moves the USB back to her.

“Jessica Pava has clearance for a study just like this but she’s never sent anything to any of the prisons. You could get her information and fake it.” She moves the USB again.

“This is not a good idea.” Statura simply looks down at the treacherous data storage device in front of him. 

“Oh no?” At her tone Statura looks back up at her again. “I’ve spent the last week living inside of an invisible prison. I’m paranoid that someone is going to find me and report me. I’m afraid to stand too close to people, I’m afraid to get my hair cut, I’m afraid to go get a wax job,” and she emphasises this with a sweeping gesture over her pelvis. “This guy,” she says pointing at the USB, “is the only alpha that I am even slightly interested in, but I know hardly _anything_ about him. I need to find out if I should wait for him or go looking elsewhere.”

“But-”

“You said that you would help me with whatever I need, and this is what I need.” 

Statura’s mouth opened and closed twice, at a loss for words. 

“Because at this point I don’t want to get anyone else involved...”

“Kaydel…”

“...but if you won’t help me I’ll do what I have to.”

“Luke is going to skin me alive when he finds out.” Statura’s voice was flat and defeated.

“Which is why you’re not going to breathe a word of this to Luke or Leia.” Things would only become more complicated if they found out.

“Shit,” he says under his breath. He could have just said no, but he didn’t (it looks like Luke’s prediction was correct). After a long moment Statura reluctantly picks up the USB key.

“Great. Let me walk you through what you need to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My libido** : *sigh* Thank you.  
>  **Me** : You're welcome.  
>  **My libido** : So when do we get to do that again?  
>  **Me** : You are insatiable. Go take a nap.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Of course prison sex between an inmate and a guard/staff/researcher can never be considered consensual, but all bets are off when it's imaginary.
> 
> So do you remember how in TLJ Kaydel becomes part of the Resistance mutiny? Yeah, that's what this last scene is all about. Is she misbehaving? Absolutely. Is she unfairly putting Statura into an awkward position? Totally. But she also had had a lot of crap thrown at her recently. For better or for worse she's trying to take back some control in her life. Also, did she really need to manipulate his head-space with all of that talk about her research ideas before revealing her _new study_? Maybe. Maybe she was worried that uptight-worried-about-omegas Statura would just say no and tattle about her to Luke. (Was it maybe just an excuse to talk more about her research? Hmm... maybe.)
> 
> I also wanted to say, that I realize that a lot of these chapters usually start off with a recap of what that chapter's character has gone through since we last saw them. It seems to be a product of having the three main characters separated. I'm trying very hard to make those little recaps flow naturally as part of the text, and I hope that the repetitiveness of it isn't becoming too tedious. (If only there was a time in the future when some of these characters were actually _with each other_ then maybe I could stop needing to do that...)
> 
> Anyway, if you have comments please share. I do really love reading them (even if I don't reply to every one).
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really had wanted to post this and the next chapter together, but I'm terrible at leaving something alone until I post it. The next chapter should follow shortly.
> 
> Fingers crossed for exciting things to come out of SWCC this weekend (I will be living vicariously though those who are going).

**The next Saturday**

Shortly after dawn, Luke wakes, showers and dresses. He gets into Leia’s Lexus and soon he’s on the highway headed away from Eisley. 

Leia had called him Monday evening. “So I visited Ben this weekend.”

“Mmm.”

“He liked the cupcakes. Have you tried them yet?”

Luke happened to be at his desk; his eyes shifted to Rian’s folder. “Mmm.”

“And what did you think?” 

There was a long beat before Luke could make himself answer, and even when he did the tone was begrudging. “They were good.”

“I’m glad you liked them.” Over the next few days Leia sent him visitation forms to sign. 

The school also got a new student during the week. Making sure that the transition went smoothly was a time consuming process. There were often a lot of angry and confused emotions to deal with, both from the student and his parents; helping everyone to come to a better place always took a lot out of Luke. 

Late in the week he received the final approval forms to visit at Redguard on Saturday. It wasn’t the ideal time to be away given the new student but so far the kid was fitting in well, and getting the visitation moved would just mean more paperwork.

He would have like to track down Ezra, but between the new student and Leia’s paperwork, the week had slipped away from him.

After an hour or so on the road Luke stops for breakfast and coffee and then is back on the highway. One benefit of being so busy all week was that he hadn’t had time for stray thoughts, but on the open, monotonous road he has nothing with which to protect himself.

* * *

On the first day of classes Luke knocked on the English homeroom door. “Hi, good morning.”

Mara looked up from her desk and smiling when she saw him. “Hi.” As he approached she stood grasping her coffee with both hands.

“Are you ready?” He stood with her by her desk.

“Ah, I think so.” She wore a cream sweater and a grey skirt just past her knees. “I just hope I don’t blow it. First impressions and all that.” 

_I think you’ll have their attention_ , but Luke kept that thought to himself. “If you’ve done this for twenty years I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, so faking my resume was a bad idea?” She smiled and he chuckled. He took it as a good sign that she was cracking jokes right before her first class.

He looked around the room. The renovations looked great; they had had to gut and redo much of the interior in order to remove asbestos. The new walls and paint looked great, and the school had never _smelled_ so fresh before; free of the scent of teenage alphas. _Not for long_ , he thought. “Is it okay if I stay to introduce you? Just briefly. I usually do when there is a new teacher.”

“Sure. If it’s what you usually do.” She smiled. They stood at an angle to each other so that they could watch the door. “So… I’ve been meaning to ask… why do you call the grades ‘eleventh grade year’ and ‘twelfth grade year’ and ‘final year’? Why not ‘grade eleven’, ‘grade twelve’, like at other schools?”

Luke opened his mouth to answer… and was actually caught speechless for a moment. “Ya know… that’s a great question. It’s been that way at Yavingard for… forever.” He looked at her. “I guess we failed to change with the times.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad but wouldn’t the students feel more _normalized_ if they used the same vocabulary as other students?”

“Huh. I dunno.”

“I was thinking of doing a class debate on it. Maybe in October.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Class assignments that sparked legitimate interest in the students were few and far between, but Luke thought this had promise; he was impressed.

As they watched the door, a comfortable lull fell on the conversation. When Mara spoke it was with a quiet, gentle tone. “Were you here? As a student?”

Luke was used to the question from new staff. “Mmmm,” he hummed as he sipped his coffee. “Yeah. The grades were called the same back then.”

Mara nodded and drank again from her coffee. 

Soon students started filing in. Luke watched Mara as she watched the students enter; she stilled slightly when a particularly tall students walked in and he sat in the back row.

With a hushed tone, Luke bent close spoke near her ear. “Don’t let Gungi’s size get to you; he’s more gentle than giant. Just don’t say I said that.”

“Good to know.”

There was a blank seating plan on Mara’s desk. “Can I fill this in for you?”

“Mmm. Please.”

More students entered in as Luke started filling out the seating plan. “They don’t tend to switch seats a lot.” Luke wrote the first name in large letters and the last name in small letters beneath, along with one or two words to describe each student.

Luke pointed to two tall dark-haired students that had just sat down on the far side of the room. “And don’t let those two fool you into thinking that they are cousins or brothers or any kind of relation. They aren’t, they just look similar.” After a moment he added in a lower tone. “The one on the right is my nephew, but that doesn’t mean he gets special treatment.” When Luke glanced up both Ben and Jacen looking at them - or more precisely, looking at Mara. Ben was saying something in a low voice, but Jacen just sat, watching. 

“‘Kay. Gottcha.”

Many of the students were chatting. A few of the students were _negotiating_ over who sat where, but they sorted themselves out civilly. 

“If you need anything just hit the black button on the intercom. Emmie, the secretary, will answer you.” He turned his gaze to the class. “Just let them talk before announcements. Then there’ll be a second bell and then they’re all yours.”

“Sounds simple”

The first bell rang, and a student’s voice came over the speaker, welcoming everyone back to the school.

“Oh umm… Am I introducing you as ‘ _Miss_ Jade’?”

“Ah, yes. That would be great.”

Luke turned to the chalkboard and wrote out her name in a level flowing script. The announcements finished and the second bell rang. Luke stepped to the front of the class, and stared down the remaining speakers until there was silence. “Good morning. I’d like you to meet your new English teacher, Miss Jade. Don’t give her any shit, okay?” It actually got a few quiet laughs out of the students. It was an extremely short introduction, but anything longer and it would look like he didn’t think she could make on her own. He gave Mara a brief nod and walked out. 

“Good morning everyone. It’s nice to meet you...” The door closed behind Luke and he headed towards his office. 

* * *

Luke is not really sure what to expect prior to arriving. His GPS faithfully leads him up to the prison. Outside it looks like a normal building, with exceptions of the barbed wire fences and security cameras. He smells it when he exits the car; the scent of the other alphas. It grows a hundred times stronger when he enters the building. 

Luke is used to being surrounded by the scent of _too many_ alphas, but the ambient scent at the prison was different than that at the school. Here there is more aggression; here there is less hope.

He presents his papers to the staff inside and is processed for visitation. After being scanned and patted down he’s told to sit in a waiting room; there are few other visitors. He had to leave his phone and watch with security, so there is little to do but sit and wait. 

The guard that calls him in is an impossibly tall female. Luke rises and let’s her direct him down the hall. It’s the smell that warns him the moment before she pushes him against the wall; it probably saved him from cracking his head on the bricks but he’s not fast enough to do much else.

“You know this prison is designed to keep alphas in, not to let them come and go freely,” she hisses hotly in his ear as she pushes him against the bricks. It had been a long time since Luke was attacked over his designation. “We should just lock you all up,” she practically spits in his face.

A younger Luke may have reacted, but older Luke had learned the value of passivity. It would be very unhelpful to end up arrested. Luke is considering his options when a deep voice echos from down the hall. “Phasma. Do we have a problem?” 

She relaxes her grip on Luke and takes a little step back.

“No, sir. Just one last pat down.”

“Good. Get him to where he’s going and see me in my office.”

It’s not until she releases him and turns that Luke glances down the hall at the large darker-skinned male standing there. Luke turns to follow his hostile escort. She leads him to a visitation room and sneers at him to wait in the chair. She gives him one last glare before she leaves the room.

“Huh. Friendly.” Luke mutters to himself. He could put in a complaint, but he doubts it would go anywhere. He lets out a long breath and wonders why he agreed to do this. Of course the answer comes to him quickly in the form of Kaydel’s face and smile and scent. _Will you help Rian get out of prison?_

He sighs.

_Fuck._

He turns to face the glass barrier in front of him, noting its self inscribed instructions to avoid physical contact.

Now that he’s here, all he can hear is Kaydel’s request to him, over and over. It was a good question. Will he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I have no idea when "Leia's Lexus" became a thing (I'm not even sure if I've ever been in a Lexus), but it's totally a thing for me now.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm saying nothing.

**Saturday, leading up to that moment**

Rian has no idea what to expect as he waits to be processed and brought down for visitation. He had only learned that morning that he was having a visitor. But the real surprise wasn’t having a visitor. It’s that the visitor isn’t his mom, as he expected; it was Skywalker. He hadn’t seen his old headmaster since he was in final year at Yavingard. 

Perhaps it was fitting for something random like this to happen; the week leading up to now had been strangely eventful. 

On Monday, the new warden, Gerrera, had started. Apparently he was only at Redguard temporarily until a permanent replacement for Tarkin could be found. The rumor was that Gerrera had been a warden for some kind of military prison overseas, but little else was known about him. 

On his first day, at the crack of dawn, Gerrera had walked the floor of the alpha cell block while most of the alphas still slept. Rian, of course, was awake, and had the opportunity to study the man while he was inspecting cells on the far side of the block. Gerrera was pretty imposing for a beta; tall and stocky. 

Rian had just finished his one-legged squats when he looked up to find Gerrera standing just outside his cell, looking in at him through the bars. It was a different kind of look than he would get from Tarkin or the guards, strangely inscrutable. Rian held his gaze until the older man continued on his way. 

Monday was also the day that Rian and Ziff started speaking again. They patched things up as they always did, not by talking about what was bothering them, but by silently agreeing to ignore how they had pissed each other off. 

It came about typically. They were sitting in the cafeteria (even when they weren’t on speaking terms they sat together). Ziff was trying to come up with thumbnail sketches for his next set of drawings. The commissary sold ten-page pads of blank paper. Ziff would mostly sell individual sketches, but he would also take a whole pad and do a series of images, all of the same female, starting teasingly and becoming more debauched as things went on. ‘Rut packs’ the inmates called them.

Ziff was huffing and sighing and looking at his sketches the way he always did when he got stuck. After listening to Ziff do this through the second half of his meal, Rian had finally had enough. “Let me look at it.”

“I don’t need you to look at it,” Ziff huffed in feigned insult. 

“You want me to look at it.” Rian just held his hand out and left it there.

“Fine, if you must.” And the larger alpha handed over the pad.

Rian looked at the sketches. 1 - A young adult female with skimpy clothes standing, licking lollipop. 2 - Same girl kneeling, side view, opening the fly of a half sketched shirtless male. 3 - POV down shot of girl with said male’s erect dick held against her face while she licked his shaft, lollipop held off to the side. 4 - Girl giving head. 5 - Girl getting fingered. 6 - Doggy style. 7 - Missionary. And finally, 8 - The ‘knot shot’ which was a top down of the girl, looking blissed out, with a dotted outline of the alpha’s knotted cock drawn over her lower torso, implying its position within her. It was all typical Ziff; typical rut pack.

Rian scanned back and forth between the images. “She’s not getting eaten out in any of these,” was Rian’s first comment.

Ziff groaned. “My well on cunilingus has gone dry.” 

Rian shrugged. “Put her up against a wall or something. Of a candy store.” Of course this was all discussed with the tone of choosing paint colours.

Ziff paused then took back his sketch pad and started to draw. “And what about the last one?” he asked distractedly.

Rian stared off into space. “I dunno... reverse cowgirl while teasing herself with the lollipop?”

Ziff hummed while tapping his pencil for a moment. “I like how you think, man.”

“You really should put the lollipop in every shot.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry, I am.” Ziff waved him off and hunkered down to his new sketches, drawing little lines to show where they should go in the sequence.

And like that, all was back to normal. Which was good because being at odds with Ziff always threw Rian’s schedule into chaos. Strangely spending the extra time on his own the last few days hadn’t bothered him as much as he expected. Maybe he was finally getting used to this place; he wondered if that was really a good thing.

The last interesting event of the week also came while Ziff and Rian were sitting in the caf. Ziff was finishing the last few sketches in the rut pack. Rian peered over the table at it. “What flavour is the lollipop?”

“Cherry.”

“Hmm. Good choice,” he said as he took in the upside down image and its expanses of skin. Getting to preview most of Ziff’s work was certainly a fringe benefit of being his cellmate. 

Ziff stretched his arms and looked around the caf. “Oh hey there’s- Holy shit.” 

Rian turned to see what Ziff was looking at, and It stunned him too. There was Boba, heading to the food line, and behind him... was someone who looked almost exactly like Boba, except with an extra twenty years or so on him. Apparently his father’s transfer had happened.

“Just like fucking clones,” Ziff said as they both followed them across the room. Even more surprising was when Boba didn’t come to sit with them, instead taking a seat with his father a few tables down.

Ziff and Rian looked at each other. “This should be interesting,” said the larger alpha.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Rian said as he watched them. Seeing Boba and his father stirred up questions for Rian, questions he didn’t really know how to ask.

Ziff soon went back to his sketching, but Rian continued to watch them out of the corner of his eye; he would try to do so whenever he got the chance.

The best thing about the week was that Phasma wasn’t on duty - at least not in the alpha wing. Rian knew she would come back at some point, but until she did he just tried to enjoy her absence. 

* * *

The guards pat down and handcuff Rian prior to bringing him to the interview room. It always felt so unnecessary - the room being divided already - like it was done just to make him look less human to his visitors. 

His mom would visit every few months; his dad had come down twice. No one else had ever visited him before. He had no idea why Skywalker was here. The guards mentioned something about an outreach program. Rian had never heard of it before so he just kept his mouth shut. 

When he enters the room, Skywalker is already sitting in the booth on the other side of the DO NOT TOUCH glass. He’s older than Rian remembers which isn’t surprising.

It’s as he’s almost to the chair that Rian sees Phasma; she’s looking into the visitors’ side of the room from a window to the hallway. He feels his body tighten, but a moment later Phasma turns and is out of view before he’s even sitting down. 

The guards secure Rian’s handcuffs and leave. For now, he tries to put Phasma out of his mind; at least as long as he’s in the interview room nothing bad was going to happen. It was the one place where the security cameras were always working.

He swallows and tries to turn his attention to Skywalker, who is looking at him intently. They just sit there for a long moment taking each other in. After a moment Rian reaches for the receiver, putting it to his ear. 

A long moment later, Skywalker does the same. “Hi Rian.”

Rian replies reflexively, “Sir,” with a little duck of his head.

Skywalker makes a small dismissive gesture with his hand. “You don’t have a call me that anymore. You can call me ‘Luke’.”

Rian swallows. “Luke,” and ducks his head again.

Skywalker’s eyes narrow suddenly focusing on Rian’s neck. “You got a tattoo.”

 _Ah shit_. “A lot of guys in here get them.”

Luke sits forward in his chair a little. “What is it?”

Rian turns his head to the right to obscure the image. “Ah, I don’t think you want to see it.”

“Now I definitely want to see it.” Luke’s voice was calm.

This felt strangely like being back in school. Rian realizes he could refuse - his head knows that Skywalker doesn’t hold anything over him anymore - but there is some part of him, deep in his subconscious, that still saw Skywalker as an authority figure. At the very least, Skywalker could end the visit at any time and it was kind of nice to talk to someone different. After a long moment - in which Skywalker just watches him silently - Rian turns his head the other way, tugs down the collar of his shirt, and leans towards the glass a little. 

There is a long pause in which Skywalker still doesn’t say anything. After what Rian deems to be a sufficient amount of time he sits back, half expecting Skywalker to start chewing him out, but it doesn’t come. When he looks at Skywalker again his old headmaster is, wearing a serious but otherwise unreadable look. “Why did you get that?” he finally says.

* * *

Rian had only been at Redguard for a few weeks. Even though Ziff was the best kind of cellmate, Rian was still felt uneasy around the majority of the other inmates. Ziff was constantly telling him to chill out, to relax, but he just couldn’t. So when Ziff offered to do a tattoo for him, to fit in better, Rian jumped at the chance (at the price of Rian’s dessert for two weeks it was an easy choice).

“Where do you want it?” Ziff asked.

“Where is the most badass place to have a tattoo?” He almost gave Ziff enough time to answer, before adding, “...other than my dick.”

“In that case, I would recommend the side of your neck. Highly visible. Kinda painful.”

Rian thought about it for a sec. “Yeah. Sure.”

“What do you want?” They were already locked in their cell for the evening so Rian had all night to come up with something. Ziff lent him a sketch pad and a pencil.

“What do you suggest?”

“This might sound obvious, but I would suggest a tattoo that actually means something to you. Otherwise it comes off as lame when someone asks you about it. Something _badass_ if that’s what you’re going for.”

There was only one thing that Rian had ever done that was kind of badass. He came up with the basic design: the pine tree silhouette with ‘KOR’ spelled out in the roots. Of course then Ziff reworked the design, making it a hundred times better. 

When Rian told him about the club, Ziff said, “That actually _is_ kind of badass. Wish I had been there.” And, for whatever reason, after Rian had had the image permanently poked into his skin, he actually felt better as he walked around Redguard.

* * *

“Why did you get that?” Skywalker finally says.

“Does it matter?” Rian replies.

“I’d like to know.” There was an awkward pause. “If that’s okay.”

It wasn’t the sort of thing that Rian would normally discuss, but no one else was in the room with them. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m half the size of most of the guys in here.” (Except Pru of course, who made up for it with his mouth). “It’s just for show.”

“It’s pretty permanent for being ‘just for show’.”

“I’m just sacrificing a small portion of my skin to try to save the rest of it.”

“Hm.” Skywalker looks like he’s trying to weigh Rian with his eyes. “Why did you choose _that_ for your tattoo?” Skywalker had been _pissed_ when he caught them doing their fight club.

Rian sat a little taller in his chair. “Look I get it; it was dumb of us to name ourselves that. The real Knights of Ren represented the worst of what alphas could be.” Rian had actually read the Kylo Ren book cover to cover; he was the only one in their group who had. “History tried to forget them for a reason. But _our_ group, the seven of us, that was important to us. To me. It gave us a chance to be ourselves.”

Luke looked down for a moment, considering Rian’s words before nodding slowly. They sat, and the silence shifted into something less serious. 

“How’s Ben these days?” 

“Good. Ben’s good.”

Rian didn’t push for details; he knew Ben and his uncle didn’t always get along.

There’s a short pause again. This time it’s Skywalker that speaks. “I heard that your stay here has been longer than expected.”

As if Rian needed to be reminded. “That would be accurate.” 

“When’s your current release date?”

“At the moment? Early July.” But it going to just get pushed back again anyway.

“That’s not so long.”

Rian doesn’t respond to that. It isn’t _that_ simple. “Look, it’s nice of you to drop by and all but... why are you here?”

Skywalker pauses and looks at Rian for a very long time. He moves to scratch his face as he finally speaks again. “There’s a young woman who’s interested in meeting you.”

“ _What_?” Rian actually laughed. It was the most ridiculous thing that he had ever heard. “Oh no. Please tell me that you aren’t pimping off your old students to women who think they want an _alpha experience_.” The thought was so ludicrous that all the tension that he’d been carrying since the Phasma incident snapped and came gushing out of him in little waves of quiet laughter. “Are you working for one of those alpha/beta kink groups or something?” Rian especially didn’t need something like _that_. Luke was already shaking his head, but Rian continued. “Either way I would highly recommend pimping off someone who _isn’t_ incarcerated.” 

Luke waited until Rian’s small fits of laughter died out. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like? Whoever she is, don’t tell her that I’ll be out in July, cause I probably won’t be.” No, he’s going to be here, with Phasma and DJ and forty-odd alphas, not all of whom were friendly. Rian shook his head and rubbed his eyes for a moment. Ridiculous.

Again Luke waits. He used to do that in class; wait for everyone to be paying attention before speaking. Rian didn’t know why he was bothering. Rian still could hear everything he was saying. But when the silence continued, Rian relented and opened his eyes again to look at Skywalker.

Luke seemed to be waiting for him to do just that. “She...” His hand moves again to his face, falling to his chest after. “...isn’t from any alpha/beta interest group. She...” He repeats the gesture, and on this third time Rian notes that his thumb is touching the tips of his fingers - making an ‘O’ - and after touching his chin Luke drop his hand to touch his upper chest in the center. 

_No fucking way._

“...is interested in you specifically.” 

Yavingard was the only alpha school in Canada that had resources in place to accommodate deaf students, so usually there were always one or two hearing impaired students at the school. As such it was almost impossible for the other students to go through Yavingard without picking up a few basic signs, usually all the swears and a few others. One of the common ones was the sign for female-omega which was similar to the sign for woman - an open hand with the thumb touching the chin and then dropping to the chest - except that the fingers were closed to make an ‘O’, and it was the side of the index finger that touched the chin, the side of the thumb that touched the chest. 

Luke seems to notice that Rian’s whole demeanor has changed. An instant later he raises an eyebrow at Rian in warning, and Rian’s memory flashes back to the another day at the school.

Luke was subbing in for the gym teacher who was out sick. Only it wasn’t a regular gym class that day; it was a sex-ed class. The moment Skywalker walked in Ben looked like he wanted to die under a rock; perhaps as a small kindness Skywalker didn’t call on him the entire class. 

The discussion that day was on consent. Rian was actually impressed at how unabashedly Skywalker discussed the topic. Perhaps unsurprisingly there were a few inappropriate comments from some of the other students; whispered inferences about omegas and heats. Luke shut them down pretty quickly, calmly offering to assign them extra essays to write on the topic if they kept it up. 

Then Luke paused, and pondered to the air above the class, “What would you do if you ever met an omega? Well if you’re meeting them, it’s almost a guarantee that they’re unregistered. Of course, if they were then reported they would be removed from anywhere _you_ could go, so I suppose if you were interested in them, you probably shouldn’t do that. What happens next really comes down to consent. Mutual agreement. Sex, no sex; knots, no knots; claiming, no claiming; and everything that goes between. Because without consent we’re no better than the monsters they make us out to be.” (Then the bell rang and Ben bolted for the door). Luke was always doing that, adding little lessons to the curriculum when no one else was looking.

Rian’s brain is spinning at a mile a minute. He is very aware that his conversation with Luke is probably being monitored by the guards. If they thought there was an unregistered omega out there, they would report it to Omega Services who would try to find her; but if they thought this female was just a beta with an alpha-kink they’d probably laugh it off. “Is she pretty?” 

Luke made a show of a giving little shrug. “Pretty enough.”

How the fuck was this possible? Even if there was an omega out there why would she be interested in _Rian_? “Look, I’m flattered but... I don’t think I’m interested in this _beta_ chick.” _Not interested in a beta, but..._

Again Skywalker makes a show of his shrug. “Well that’s understandable. Now back to my other question. Is there anything I can do to help you get out of here?”

But Rian can’t focus on the question. _No fucking way._ Why would she have singled him out if they had never met? It didn’t make any sense. “Umm, I… Can I let you know if I think of something?” 

“Sure. I’ve left left my contact information on your file if you need to get in touch with me. If you do get out call me.”

“Right…” The only females that Rian had come in contact with in the last three and a half year were the female prison staff (and if _they_ were omegas there was no way that they wouldn’t get sniffed out being in here day after day); and his mom of course (who was _not_ and omega and _didn’t count anyway_ ). “Do you have any thoughts on that? Me getting out?” 

Skywalker just took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just be cool, I guess.” It was a very Skywalker response; he had always been trying to get the students to “be cool”, or “relax” when tensions ran high at the school. 

“I’ll try,” he said half-heartedly. The only other female faces Rian saw on a regular basis were Ziff porn drawings. 

“Well anyway, I think that’s everything. If you don’t mind I probably should be going.” 

And of course of these, Rian’s favourite was the research girl that had come last fall…

_No fucking way._

Maybe he shouldn’t ask but something deep down in Rian needs to know. “Hey Luke,” he says as if he is reconsidering Luke’s offer. “That beta chick, is she blonde? I have a thing for blondes.” 

Rian doesn’t need an answer because with that question Luke’s face darkens suddenly. Rian doesn’t understand the reaction, but when he saw it he knew he was right. _No way._

Skywalker just sits there a moment. Rian can hear his breath over the receiver. After a moment he musters, “See ya,” hangs up the receiver and heads to the door without looking back.

“See ya,” says Rian even though only the guards are listening now, and he hangs up the receiver. 

_No fucking way_.

Later he’ll look back and analyse Skywalker’s reaction, but for the moment Rian only knows one thing: whatever the fuck is going on, he is very _very_ interested in finding out more.

* * *

The guards remove his handcuffs and allow Rian to go on his way. He normally would go find Ziff at this time of day, but instead he finds himself wandering back to his cell. He feels dazed as he lifts the mattress of his bunk. He removes his small pile of porn sketches, and sorts through them to find the ones that are of the research girl (which is most of them). He finds one where her face is smiling at him and he stares at it. 

_No fucking way_. 

How the fuck did this happen? And who was she? Yes she was an alpha researcher. But he didn’t know her name, or where she was from. Or why she was interested in him.

Of course, if he wanted to do _anything_ about this he had to get out first. His release was still three months away - assuming he could avoid further sanctions. At that thought his chest gets tight. _Fuck_. How was he supposed to do this?

 _Be cool_. Right. Be cool. 

He starts sifting through the sketches. He had studied them all in detail before. Some he had bought off Ziff. Some he had traded from other alphas… And with that thought Rian is suddenly overcome by smell of pine and aggression. 

Other alphas had sketches of research girl too. 

That thought does not sit well with him. He looks again at her smiling face. No, it doesn’t sit well with him at all.

* * *

Shortly after supper, Rian’s sitting comfortably in his bunk when Ziff enters their cell. “Hey man, where were you? You missed-” Ziff’s body went on alert as his eyes sweeps back and forth between the two tables covered in his art supplies. “Hey some of my sketches are missing.” When get gets to the tables he starts taking deep sniffs.

“Relax. It was me.” Rian doesn’t look up from the page he’s holding.

Ziff turns to him, a half confused look on his face. “You?”

“Don’t worry. I paid you for them. Hill’s transferred the credits.”

Ziff looks at the shortened piles of sketches again and back to Rian. “How much did you buy?”

“Whatever’s missing. I bought it.” Rian waved his hand back and forth in a ‘don’t worry about it’ kind of gesture.

Ziff again looked between the piles and his cellmate. “Ummm… right.”

* * *

Ziff had spent much of the evening grumbling about his things being out of order, but Rian knew he didn’t really care. 

Rian had spent the time making a list of all the alphas that he had traded for their research girl sketches, and a second list of those who might still have some. To get the research girl sketches, he had traded cigarettes, credits, and sketches that he had bought from Ziff’s stock. He would try to track down the remaining alphas on his list over the next few days. For now, his new collection is tucked away safely under his mattress, it feels good having them there.

After lights out Rian stares at the darkened ceiling. He isn’t hungry despite missing supper. He tries to envision when she had interviewed him. The clothes that she wore, how she kept pushing her hair back over her shoulder, baring her neck. He thought of her smile and his dick twitched. He was already half hard lying just there. 

It probably didn’t help that it had been a while since he last jerked off. He just couldn’t do it in the showers with other alphas around. And to keep the peace with Ziff, they kept jerking off in the cell to a reasonable minimum (this was not so hard for Ziff, as he had no such qualms about the showers).

_There’s a young woman who’s interested in meeting you._

In his mind, research girl reaches for him, and pulls him out of the prison. She leads him down a trail that runs through the forest near his house. It’s summer and it’s warm out. They come to the meadow where he used to do target practice. 

Rian takes off his shirt and slides off his pants and boxers. Quietly he spits in his hand and starts to rub himself slowly.

They stand under the large willow tree at the center of the meadow. Together they undress each other, clothes falling to their feet. Rian kisses down her torso to kneel in front of her, cock standing proud. He plants kisses on her hips, and down to the apex of her legs, where he starts to lave her clit. She starts to sway but he wraps his arms around her, holding her upright. He hoists one of her legs over his shoulder so he can better access her, both with his tongue and hands. 

She moans his name when she comes and he’s the only thing stopping her from falling over. Gently he lowers her, so that she can sit in his lap. She reaches down and strokes him, mirroring Rian’s motions with his hand. Then she’s kissing him up and down his neck, suckling on his glands in the most exquisite way. Soon she’s moving herself up his body, so she can line herself up and slide down onto him. 

Rian grasps her hips so he can help her to move up and down on him. She’s already groaning again, but this time it’s into his ear. She whispers to him, “Alpha please.” And he can feel the base of his cock pulsing. He cradles her down to the ground, still in her, so that he can start delivering long thrusts that have her moaning. 

She’s so beautiful and soft and wet. 

He comes into his t-shirt and he swears he feels his knot swell slightly.

He lies there hot and sweaty. His breath slows and his skin starts to cool. He holds his dick, imagining her lying down on top of him, his knots still inside her. He easily could fall asleep just like this.

Of course this is interrupted a moment later when a voice from below him quips, “So was good for you?”

Rian’s eye pop open a sec before he closes them again. “Shut the fuck up Ziff.”

Ziff chuckles, but says no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Ziff and Rian are such an old married couple and I love them.
> 
> And yay, now Rian _knows_.
> 
> Also, disclaimer: I don't know sign language. Hopefully the gesture that I have invented for 'female-omega' doesn't already mean 'toaster' or 'butt-plug' or something. If it does already have a meaning please let me know so I can change it.
> 
> (Oh and if you are interested I wrote a [mini-fic in response to the EPIX teaser trailer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18445355).)
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke, after meeting with Rian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (not sorry).

**Saturday, earlier**

Luke is still silently fuming as he exits the Redguard Correctional Institute and gets into Leia’s vehicle. For a long time he just sits there. He doesn’t buckle his seat belt. He doesn’t start the engine. He doesn’t turn his phone back on. Even his subdued alpha has its hackles up. Finally he closes his eyes and breathes. 

_There is no emotion, there is peace..._

It’s pointless really; being angry at Rian for figuring out Kaydel’s identity. He knows that. It’s just… 

Luke forces himself to complete the thought. 

It’s just that it felt like he had failed to protect her; like he’s losing her. That’s where it’s coming from. He’s afraid of losing her.

 _Which is... ridiculous_ , he thinks to himself, not for the first time. She isn’t his to start with, and she never will be. There is no _them_ , and will never be. She’s looking for someone _else_. That’s the whole reason Luke was here to start with. All of these transferred emotions serve no purpose. He sits quietly a minute longer before starting the engine. 

It’s a long drive back to Yavingard.

* * *

It was early on the morning of the second day of school. Luke was in his private office checking his email. The teacher on night-duty had sent him a few incident reports; he had had to break up a couple of fights overnight, Ben and Jacen being one of the pairs. They had better not be starting their fight club again. Luke just sighed and looked out the window. 

He had a full view of the front grounds of the school. In the distance he noticed an an unfamiliar car drive up the road - a little fast, Luke thought - and pull into the teacher’s parking lot. When it turned he recognised Mara’s red hair though the window.

He looked at the time. _Early. Committed. That’s good,_ he thought.

He grabbed his coffee and headed down the secret staircase to the offices below. He hadn’t had a chance yesterday to ask her how her first day went, so he headed out through the main entrance of the school to wait for her. The air still held a little chill from the night before but the day promised to be warm.

Luke stood just outside the doors, watching as Mara approached the building. She seemed to be having trouble carrying the unruly stack of papers in her arms. She stumbled on something. Luke winced and walked out to meet her. 

She looked up and finally noticed him coming towards her. “Oh, hi Luke!” She went to wave at him, and almost lost her books. He noticed then how wobbly here legs were. Was she flushed? Was she drunk? Luke groaned internally. That was one problem he really didn’t need on the second day of classes.

And then the wind shifted and her scent hit him.

S _hit._

Her smile was vivacious.

_She’s in heat._

Luke quickly closed the last few feet between them, took her arm and gently turned her around, walking her straight back towards her car. “Good morning, Mara. You don’t look well.” Her skin was fever hot and she had a light sheen of sweat all over her. “I think you should go home and rest.”

“I should?” She questioned, though physically she let him direct her away from the school. 

“Yes.” _Shit. Shit. Shit._ “Let me take those.” And he took from her the very messy stack of papers and books as they walked.

“What about my classes?”

“I’ll take care of them. But first I’m driving you home.” _Fuck._ It would have been simpler if she was just drunk. “Give me your keys.” She dropped them twice trying to give them to him.

It was easy to find her car. It was the only one in the lot. It was also parked across two spaces and wasn’t pulled in all the way. He tucked Mara into the passenger seat, dumped her papers in the back seat (apparently she was going to teach ‘King Leαr’) and he got in on the driver’s side. 

Once in the car, the first breath he drew crashed into him like a wave, leaving him a dazed. He cast his eyes around, trying to orient himself again. For a moment he thought he saw a figure standing in the entryway to the school, but when he blinked and looked again nothing was there. His mind must be playing tricks on him. It would be better if he could open the windows, but he should wait until they’re farther from the school. This was manageable, he told himself.

His eyes glided over the console, quickly learning its lay out as he started the engine. “Where do you live?” 

She actually giggled at that. “On Elm Street.”

“How do I get there?” For all that he had been living next to Eisley for years, he rarely went in to town, and didn’t know any of the smaller streets.

“You can take the bypass road,” she suggested, and so he did. It wasn’t until they were half way along it that he rolled down the windows - all of them. 

“When did you start feeling like this?” he asked.

“Umm, I was a little warm last night?” It really sounded more like a question when she said it. She was resting her head on the passenger side window. 

“Has this ever happened to you before?”

“Has what ever happened to me before?” she said sleepily. 

Luke glanced over at her. “Never mind.”

From the bypass they turned down the old farm road and soon they were in a quiet neighbourhood. She directed him to a 1950’s green bungalow with white trim. He could see the name ‘Jade’ in faded letters on the mailbox. He parked in the garage and closed its door behind them. It took her a few tries to find the right key for the door.

The interior was dated with flowery furniture and light green shag carpet. Her scent was everywhere of course. In spite of his medication the smell made him feel relaxed, like he had had a strong drink (something Luke rarely did, even though he could). He assumed it would be worse if he wasn’t on it.

As soon as Luke had locked the door behind him, Mara yawned. “Mmm, sleepy.” Mara started to walk into the house, but stumbled over nothing. Luke caught her, and she leaned on him.

“Okay, let’s get you into bed,” he said as he slipped off his shoes by the door.

He held her upright as she walked through the front of the house to a long hallway. She stumbled again and ended up with her head on his shoulder. “Mmm, you smell good,” she murmured.

 _I could say the same of you,_ he thought after catching the strong puff of air that rose up from between them. She lead him to a bedroom that seemed well lived in. He sat her down on the edge of the bed and knelt to take off her shoes.

“What do you think I’m sick with?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

This was not the time to tell her. “Oh, probably just the flu,” he lied.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “No. That’s not it. What is it really?”

He hesitated. He was still kneeling on the floor in front of her.

“Tell me?” An edge of a whine was starting to creep into her voice.

He had the distinct feeling she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Okay. Well, yesterday you spent all day smelling a high concentration of alpha pheromones, and today you have a fever and you smell different and you’re acting strange. Do you know why?” 

“No. Why?” Her voice was back to just sounding spacey.

“May we should talk about this later after you sleep a bit.” 

“No tell me.” She seemed clearly distressed over this, and he had a distinct feeling that things were only going to escalate.

Luke sighed and looked up at her. _Shit._ “Mara, you’re an omega.” 

Mara’s eyes widened, and her scent shot through with panic. “What?” her voice much more sober.

“And being at the school has triggered you into heat.”

“What?” Both her voice and scent were picking up angry tones.

“You need to stay here for the next few days, until it passes.” _And I’m the only one to look after you_. The last time Luke had found an omega in Eisley Leia had had Artoo drive up a trusted female beta to heat-sit. But Leia was in Paris this week, and Artoo and Threepio were in the Caribbean, and Luke didn’t know Leia’s contacts. He had no one else that he could count on here.

Mara glanced at the door the moment before she lunged for it, trying to make an escape. Luke grabbed her around her torso. 

“Let me go!”

“Mara, no you can’t leave.” She was strong, but Luke had a good grip.

She was pushing at him, trying to free herself. “Let go of me!”

“You can’t leave the house. It’s not safe.”

She grabbed the bedpost and started pulling herself the other way, deeper into the room. He let her go and she tumbled away. She scrabbled to her feet in front of the closet.

Luke stood blocking the door. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What the hell _is_ this?” She started pulling object out of the closet and throwing them at him. “Who are you to come into my house like this?” A high heeled shoe. “How dare you?” A pair of flats.

“I’m trying to help you Mara.” Luke dodged the other high heeled shoe.

“Oh yeah?” She reached into her closet again. “How are you going to help me?” This time she pulled out a purse to throw at him; it was made of pink and purple knotted fabric and had a long leather strap.

Time slowed for Luke. His mind flashed back to a walk taken down a forested dirt road, staring at a red-headed girl as she stared back at him. Before the purse could slam into him he snagged it out of the air effortlessly and, without looking, set it neatly on the dresser next to him. “Mara.” Her name felt so different in his mouth now, now that he _knew_. He took a step forward, hands down in a calming motion.

Her eyes darted around the room looking for more things to throw. 

“Do you remember that day Mara? At the old farmhouse?” He took another step and she took one back, but her eyes were on him now. “You told that guy ‘no’, but he wasn’t listening.” He took another step; she did not. “Do you remember the alpha that chased him off? The one who walked you home?” She stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips. A final step brought him to just outside arm’s length. “I didn’t hurt you then and I wouldn’t hurt you now. I need you to trust me, Mara.”

She took a step forward, then another and brought a hand to the side of his face; her fingers were long, slender and soft. Luke stood stock still as her eyes darted around his face, settling on his eyes. Her breathing started to slow and the doubt vanished from her face. “It is you.” And then as if she was only being held up by the adrenaline that was rapidly leaving her body, her knees buckled and Luke guided her to the edge of the bed. 

He cradled her against him for a moment. “Okay. You’ve had a big day. I want you to lie down and try to sleep.”

She let him tuck her into bed, fully clothed. “Luke?”

“Yeah,” he replied as he removed the comforter; it would only make her too hot.

“Are you going to stay with me?” There was just a hint of a plea in her voice.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” He sat on the floor next to her so he could talk to her very softly. “Once you’re asleep I need to go out for a bit, but I’ll be right back. If you wake up, promise me you won’t leave the house, okay?”

“Mm.” Her eyes had just drifted closed.

“Say it Mara.”

“I won’t leave.” Her words were slurred with sleep.

“Good.”

She surprised him by freeing one of her arms from the sheets so she could touch his shoulder. He took her hand and held it until her breaths were deep and even.

As he reached her door to go, he turned back to stare at her, lying peacefully in her bed. A part of him wanted to stay by her side and never leave it, but he couldn’t do that. 

He pulled the door almost closed and walked back down the hall, dialing on his flip phone as he went.

“Yavingard.”

“Hi Emmie, it’s Luke.” Emmeline had been a secretary at the school since before Luke was first a student.

“Hmm. Good morning, Luke. Are you still upstairs?”

“Ah no. Actually, I think I’ve come down with something. It’s not pleasant. Miss Jade as well. I brought her home, and I think I’m going to stay in a motel until it passes. No need to get everyone sick.” He found the kitchen at the back of the house. “Can you try to find someone to cover her classes for a few days?” 

“Well I probably can’t get a proper sub _today_.” There was some low pitched grumbling on the other end of the line “I’ll figure something out.”

“Am I on night-duty any time soon?”

He could hear the clicking of her keyboard. “This weekend.”

“If you do find a sub, see if they want to cover it.” When he checked the fridge it only held meager offerings. 

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Will do.”

“Thanks Emmie.” If he recalled right, Mara had signed up for meals with the school cafeteria. 

“Let me know when you’ll be back.”

“I’ll be in touch.” He closed the fridge door.

He found Mara’s keys where he left them by the door. Luckily he never left his quarters without three things: his medication, his ID and a prepaid credit card. As long as he had those and Leia’s phone number (which he had memorized) he could handle almost anything. 

After triple checking that the door was locked correctly, he slipped out with Mara’s car, never wanting to be more inconspicuous in his life. Luckily the grocery store was mostly empty on a Tuesday morning. After having spent most of his life eating at Yavingard’s cafeteria Luke was a terrible cook, so his purchases consisted of pre-cut fruits, a few frozen meals, and a toothbrush for himself. 

Finding Mara’s house again was easier than he expected, like a magnet was pulling him back. 

He checked on Mara who was still sleeping where he left her. He put together a selection of fruit and set it and a glass of water on her bedside table. He then inspected the other rooms off the hall. He found a bathroom, which was obviously handy. He found a bedroom that was done up with the same era of furniture as the rest of the house; he had the distinct impression that it had been Mara mother’s room so he shut the door softly. 

The last room on the hall seemed to be a study. Bookshelves lined the walls; a well used desk stood in the corner; a couch sat in front of a large curtained window. Her scent was strong here too, but it was strong everywhere in the house it seemed. 

Luke sat on the couch, and thought it rather comfortable. A book lay face down on the floor beside it; he picked it up. A brown-haired young woman faced off with a tall, broad shouldered (shirtless) male; you could see her face but not his. _‘(K)not for You’,_ read the title. _Oh_. His eyebrows went up at that. He peered at the closest shelf of books and realised that several were of the ‘romαnce’ variety. _That’s… interesting_...

He set the book down and leaned his head back. 

_Fuck._

Maybe she would just sleep through most of it. Every heat was different, or so he was told. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad for her. 

While Leia usually used female betas to heat-sit for the omegas she knew, things didn’t always work out that way. Threepio had had to heat-sit an omega once and it had worked out (through Threepio continued to gripe about it for years after). This shouldn’t be much different. Luke knew his scent was greatly muted compared to a natural alpha. All he had to do was make sure that she didn’t leave and that she ate and drank a little. This should be fine. At least she’d be safe.

He stared around the room. His mind wandered as he tried to reconcile that the red-headed girl he had walked home once was sleeping in the room next to him. The odds were impossible, but it had happened.

He took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. He felt exhausted. After all the surprises of the morning, Luke was struck with the need to lie down for a minute. Maybe it was the comfortable couch, or the sun beaming in the window - or the pheromones in the air - but, without meaning to, Luke then fell asleep.

* * *

Luke spends the rest of the weekend in his quarters. He leaves only to eat at the cafeteria, sitting at the head table reserved for staff. Once he thought he saw Ezra out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned the boy was gone. Luke didn’t exactly feel up to chasing him through the halls.

Monday comes, forcing Luke out of his shell. With the end of school only a few months away, Luke was always busy. Years ago he had taken it on himself to make sure that every student in final year had an ‘exit plan’; somewhere to go when school finished. Many towns and cities prohibited alphas over the age of nineteen, so on graduating many of the students would no longer be able to return to their childhood homes. Luke made sure each student had a place to live, a way to obtain groceries, and a bank account registered with Alpha Services to receive their isolation allowance. 

He spends the day sending emails and signing reports. Midway through last period he notices an email from the math teacher.

_Hi Luke,_

_So I wasn’t going to say anything, but Ezra Bridger was acting really off last week, and today he seems much worse. He’s usually very talkative and interacts well with the other kids, but since last week he’s been very withdrawn. The other kids seem to be giving him a bit of a hard time._

_Can I leave this with you?_

This was Luke’s fault. After his confrontation with Ezra, the kid must have lost face to his peers. 

Luke sends back a quick reply and looks up Ezra’s schedule. He should be in... 

English class. 

Right.

Minutes later, Luke waits in the hall outside of the English homeroom; class is almost over.

He can hear a student reading aloud in iambic pentameter; Luke isn’t sure which play it is. When the student finishes a woman speaks, “Okay we’ll pick it up there tomorrow.” He can hear the students starting to pack up their books. That’s Luke’s cue to enter.

Luke swallows and rounds the corner. 

A woman with dark hair is packing up her teaching supplies. “Oh, Mr. Skywalker. Hi. Did you need something?”

As he crosses to her, Luke scans the classroom. When Luke finds him, Ezra is already watching him, sitting stock still at his desk in the back row. “Ah, actually I just needed to speak to Mr. Bridger for a moment. May we use the room?”

“Not a problem,” she smiles, packs her things and leaves with the the rest of the students.

Luke approaches Ezra’s position by walking up the aisle one down from him. He moves slowly, the way you walk to not spook birds or wildlife. About halfway down the row Luke can smell it - panic - growing stronger with every step. 

Luke takes the seat next to him, separated only by the space of the aisle. Ezra just gazes down at his desk. This was not Ezra’s usual behaviour - nor that of any alpha.

“You’re not in trouble Ezra,” Luke says looking at the front of the classroom; the boy doesn’t respond. He pulls Ezra’s cell phone from his pocket and sets it on the boy’s desk. “It cracked when it hit the floor. If you have trouble getting it fixed you can talk to Ms. Emmeline.” The young alpha just stares at it. “Ezra I’m sorry about what happened that day. I lost my cool and I shouldn’t have and I apologise.” Slowly Ezra nods his head, and then reaches tentatively for the device; once secured in his pocket he makes as if to grab his bag. “Ezra what’s going on? What’s wrong?” And the boy freezes still in his seat. He doesn’t move. “You really aren’t yourself.”

The boy mumbles something.

“What?”

The boy swallows. “You’re the one who did it,” still rather quiet.

“What are you talking about?” Luke leans in so he can hear him better.

Ezra jumps up at that and backs a step away. “Don’t touch me!”

Luke stands, so that they are on opposite sides of the row of desks. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

“You _did_ something to my head and it is _messing_ with me.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“You told me not to, and I can’t. Okay? Ever since that day I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

The boy just cringes, looking back and forth across the floor. “I- I can’t…..”

“Can’t what?”

“I- I can’t swear,” he finally gets out quietly.

And then it hits Luke. _You will not speak like that in these halls._ Luke had said after Ezra’s crass proclamation had interrupted his thoughts of Kaydel. Luke had said it while his alpha was enraged. 

_Shit_. Luke doesn’t know what to say; it shouldn’t have worked (but it had). 

And yet Luke does know what to say; because he had looked this up once before. “I release you.” Luke feels no magical force pass through him, but something changes in the young alpha. Ezra looks at him, unsure of what’s to happen next. “I release you. Go ahead. Swear.” In his head, Luke crosses his fingers that this is going to work.

When Ezra speaks it’s with a quiet, uncertain voice. “Shit.” His hands clap over his mouth and his legs buckle for a moment before he stands, taller than than before. 

Luke nods for him to continue.

“Fuck.” Ezra’s smile widens. “Cunt.”

Luke raises his eyebrows at that. 

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” It’s shouldn’t have happened. “You should go get cleaned up.” He needed to get that scent off him before mixing with the other students.

Much to Luke’s relief, Ezra doesn’t seem interested in asking questions. He grabs his bag and is practically bounding out of the classroom a moment later.

“And I want that app off your phone.”

“Yes, sir.”

Luke stares after him after he’s gone. 

_Shit_. This has implications, though really they only applied to Luke.

Luke’s sighs and walks to the front of the room. He should just leave, but before he does he can’t stop himself from taking a long look at the empty teacher’s desk.

* * *

Luke was partially aware that he was asleep. He could have forced himself to wake up, but there seemed no need. His muscles felt well rested in that way that only happens after the perfect afternoon nap.

It was then that the sound in the room changed, like someone else was present, which was odd because no one else should be in his quarters. And there it was again, the sound of fabric shifting next to him. What _is_ that?

He’s not sure what woke him first, the hand on his shoulder or the voice. “Luke?” His eyes flung open and there she was, kneeling next to him, on the carpet beside the couch. At her house. Right.

“Mara.” His voice still broken from sleep. By where the sun was it must be late afternoon. “Sorry I didn’t mean to sleep so long.” He turned on his side so he could lean on his elbow and look at her. 

“You know that boy I was with?” Her voice was low and soft and her eyes followed him. 

“Who?” He squinted, trying to focus on her. He still wasn’t fully awake. 

“At the farm? You know he never bothered me again after that day.” She still had a sheen of sweat all over her.

“Oh?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

“I wanted to say ‘thank you’.” When she spoke it was with a dreamy quality. 

“Oh. It wasn’t a problem.” He lowered his hand. 

And then her face was closer and she was lightly applying her lips to his, caressing the side of his face with her hand. And when he sharply inhaled he could smell the strength of her heat; his mind blanked, just for a moment. 

“Waoh, waoh.” He took her wrist in his hand gently disengaged himself from her as he sat up. Her skin was still hot. She followed him up, sitting beside him - sitting _right_ beside him - her thigh pressing against his. There was something hungry in her eyes. “Oh, no, Mara. This is not a good idea.” 

Her pupils shrank, and her scent spiked anxiously. “It’s not?” She looked at him like he had kicked her puppy and her eyes were getting shiney. 

“Oh, it’s…” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “...it’s not you Mara. Shhhhhhhh.” Mara clung to him, nose pressed to his collarbone. It only took a moment and she seemed to calm down, her scent relaxing. It was like she had melted onto his side. 

“You smell good,” she said for the second time that day. 

_You’d probably think every student at the school smells better,_ and the thought made Luke’s alpha protest. “We should get you back to bed.” 

He stood and so did she, staying fixed to his side. _One thing at a time,_ he thought to himself. It was just as well because she was still still a little wobbly on her legs. They walked together, him leading her to her bedroom. Luke sat her on the edge of the bed - or rather he sat on the edge of the bed so that she would also. 

The food on the bedside table was untouched; he’s not even sure if she had fed herself breakfast. “Here. Eat something.” He held the plate of prepared fruits out to her. In response she just opened her mouth in invitation. 

He paused staring at her lips. After her had walked her home, he had fantasized of doing this with her; he’d fantasized doing a lot of things with her. Carefully he picked out a piece of pineapple that was nice and small, and placed it between her lips. Only she moved forward at the last moment, so that when she closed her lips they grazed against his fingers, and internally he shuddered. 

Luke’s medication affected him sexually and had for years. But contrary to popular belief, it didn’t mean that he felt _nothing_. In that moment he’d never felt more drawn to a person, and layered over everything was every thought, every desire, every fantasy that he had ever had of the red-haired girl. 

“I didn’t think I’d ever meet you again,” she said between bites. 

He smiled sadly. “Me either.” He offered her a strawberry.

“I thought about you for a long time.” 

_Me too_ , he thought as she accepted the fruit with her mouth. 

He coaxed her to eat a little more, and even drink a few sips of water. Throughout it her gaze was on his face, watching his every expression. 

“Okay, I want you to see if you can sleep some more,” he said. 

“Okay.” She shifted herself back on the bed, but then tried to pull him with her. 

“Oh, no Mara.” He tried to detach himself, but every time he escaped her grasp she already had another hold on him. 

“No, Luke, please, please, stay with me-” The panic had returned to both her voice and her scent.

“We can’t,” he explained.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not yourself.” 

“Yes I am.” She seemed genuinely offended at this, as they battled over her which way Luke’s body was going to go. She really was strong.

“You may feel differently after this is over.”

“No I really want this.”

“And I’m your boss.” Although after today she was going to have to quit - but he didn’t bring that up now.

“I don’t care, I just want you. Please. I used to think about doing this, with you.” Hearing it was enough to grind his brain to a halt. He wished he could. She was getting upset again over his refusal; he could hear it in her voice and see the shininess of her eyes. 

This was not going according to his heat-sitting plan. “Let’s… just… hold each other.” This she accepted enthusiastically. She pulled him close to her as they lay down. Luke had never imagined that it would feel so good to hold another person like this, to wrap his arms around someone, but it did. She curled in close to him where she could bury her nose to the front of his shirt, and they lay like that for many minutes. 

But then she started putting little kisses on his collarbone and then she shifted her body up so she could put kisses on his face, and then she begged him to kiss her back and was crying when he wouldn’t. 

It broke his heart. So, like had he imagined hundreds of nights long past, he kissed her. His brain hadn’t been able to process it when she kissed him before but it did this time. It was his first real kiss and despite his medication, his body still told him that it was a good thing. 

And of course her scent was _everywhere_ and every breath brought more of it to him. It didn’t overpower him but it promised everything. Everything about it made him wish things were different. 

And then her hands started wondering his body. Across his chest, down his arms, to the pudge of his middle. To his belt.

He pulled back from their kiss and took a hold of her arms. “No.”

She looked at him confused and sweaty and beautiful. “Why?”

He pulled her close so that he could whisper in her ear. He wasn’t sure if he could get it all out if he had to look her in the face. “You saw my licence...”

She would have seen the ‘mc’ beside the ‘α’ for his designation. It was unlikely that she didn’t know what it meant. Over the past decade or so, many of the states in the U.S. had introduced mandatory medical castration for alphas. MC-alphas were a common topic of discussion on the news and trashy talk shows, a common plot device on TV crime shows.

So, whispering in her ear, Luke told her about the side effects he had from his medication, of why he wouldn’t be able to properly help her through her heat.

While telling her, he was only worried that she’d leave, unsatisfied with him, but still be driven to seek for fulfillment. He was very worried that she would try to walk or drive back to the school. He wouldn’t let her go, but it might become difficult to keep her here without drawing attention. So as he finished telling her, he was prepared for her to pull away, to try to bolt for the door again. But she didn’t. She didn’t even move at first. Then she started kissing his neck - his gland - and then started licking it. 

It felt so good. Luke’s lethargic alpha grunted its approval. “What are you doing?”

“You smell wrong. You don’t need to smell like that.”

“Mara…” 

“Luke please. Please kiss me again, please touch me.” Her begging took on a frantic edge. “I used to dream of you touching me.” And she put his hands on her, one on her thigh, one over her breast. “I used to touch myself thinking of you. Please alpha.”

It was all too much, because he had done the same, and slowly, over the night, she broke him of his resolve. First with begging for his kisses, and then for his hands on her (including after she started stripping off random pieces of clothing). And after a time Luke thought that maybe this is all that would happen, that there was some chance of saving the two of them from each other. But then her heat deepened and she begged for his hands and mouth in other ways and he was powerless to refuse her. When she came she was the most beautiful thing that he’d ever seen. 

She settled then for a while and was content for him just to hold her, but soon her heat ramped up again and they started the pattern over - and over, and over - her begging, a little less coherent each time.

And later, after sunset, while she half-dozed he whispered a question in her ear (one he had never contemplated speaking to another human being), and she pointed to her bedside table. He peaked in the top drawer and found what he had asked her about. A sex toy; several, in fact. He selected something simple and straightforward - metallic silver - and she seemed only all the happier when he offered to use it on her the next time she roused. 

As it grew later and later, he too would nap and doze between rounds, usually to be woken again her demanding kisses. He was thankful that he had slept most of the day, or he’s not sure he would have made it through to morning. Once the day came she seemed to sleep for longer stretches and he too was able to get more rest. 

He fed her and made sure she drank. As needed, he was able to get her to leave the bedroom long enough to go to the bathroom (though it really took telling her, not asking her). 

Of course during all this time Luke wasn’t in rut, but he wasn’t in a normal frame of mind either. He took his medication every morning (or at least he thought he took it) and was able to answer his cell phone when Emmeline called. A new student was coming to the school on Friday (normally she would have delayed until Monday but there were some concerns for the student’s safety); Luke could only pray that he could get away by then. 

Once he asked Mara if this was what she really wanted, which she assured him emphatically it was. And then she turned to him, wide-eyed and smelling scared, asking if he was happy, if he was satisfied by this. “Yes, yes I am,” he assured her. Not just to calm her, but because it was true. Every time her orgasms would crest it was like he was right there with her. He felt guilty with how it made him feel.

And then with the night, her scent ramped up more, and her conversation was again less coherent and she started begging him for things again. And he gave her everything he could.

The next day they both slept more often than not. And then, on the third night, their lovemaking was sweet and tender and they both fell asleep part way through the night. 

When Luke woke early on the Friday morning. He could tell that her scent was different. He showered quickly and dressed. He washed her sex toys and put them back in their drawer; it only seemed polite. He would have changed the bed - the sheets were a mess - but there was no way to do that without disturbing her. She was still lightly sleeping when he was ready to go. He couldn’t wait any longer; he needed to make a few stops before going to the school.

“Mara.”

“Hmm.”

“Mara how do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“Mara, I have to go to the school today.”

“Hmm.”

“There’s food in the fridge, and some here on your table.”

“Hm.”

“Mara, you can’t come back to the school.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll come back tonight.”

“You’re going?”

“I have to. Will you stay here?”

“M-hm.”

“Don’t leave your property.”

“Mm.”

“Will you wait for me to come back?”

“Mmm yes.”

Gods she was beautiful. Luke didn’t want to go; he was afraid what he would find when he came back. But he had to; being there for the students was his job.

He planted a kiss on her head. “Call me if you need me.” And with that she drifted back to sleep. He left his number with her cell phone on her bedside table, and called a cab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Mark Hamill,  
> I really hope you never read this^, but if you do, believe me I tried to keep it classy.  
> -DarkSideOfMe  
> PS: Loved you in TLJ; I know you didn't, but believe me it fixed so many things.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Apparently at Yavingard, they don't start school on the Tuesday after Labour Day. Oh well.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Yes, Threepio and Artoo are so a couple (was there ever any doubt?).
> 
> * * *
> 
> Luke snagging Mara's purse out of the air and setting it down neatly on the dresser.  
> Yoda catching Dooku's Force Lightning and absorbing it.  
> Same energy.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Obviously there is a dub-con element here.  
> While in the thrall of her heat Mara cannot consent, just as an intoxicated person cannot consent.  
> But Luke really didn't have an alternative unless he wanted to A) physically restrain Mara for three days or B) let her put herself in danger.  
> Believe me, we have not heard the end of this.
> 
> * * *
> 
> The bit about the mandatory medical castration for alphas in the U.S. comes from Isha's head canon, and this seemed like a great place to finally sneak it in.  
> It's probably the reason that the research study that Luke is a part of will no longer take new participants.
> 
> * * *
> 
> (In case you are interested, this is [Emmeline](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/ME-8D9).)
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke never really knew if his communications were being monitored, but if they were the excerpts would look like this…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or... a cheesy time skip sequence.

Luke never really knew if his communications were being monitored, but if they were the excerpts would look like this…

* * *

[…]

LEIA: Your first outreach visit was last weekend, wasn’t it? How did it go?

LUKE: It was … good.

LEIA: What was his name again?

LUKE: … Rian.

LEIA: Oh right. So, do you think you can help him?

LUKE: … Maybe.

LEIA: Glad to hear. What was Redguard like?

LUKE: As expected. Not a very nice place. And...

LEIA: And what?

LUKE: There was this one guard… this really tall female. There was something strange about her.

LEIA: Oh? Tell me.

[…]

* * *

[...]

KAYDEL: Guess where I am.

LUKE: *chuckles* Where?

KAYDEL: That coffee shop. The one in Kensington. I’m eating one of those doughnuts you had. They’re really good.

LUKE: *chuckles* Why are you there?

KAYDEL: I’m working on my article. I’ve come here a couple time. It’s just nice to be out of the apartment.

LUKE: I hope it’s going well. Just be careful. Those doughnuts are habit forming.

KAYDEL: *laughs* Tell me about it.

[...]

* * *

LUKE: Leia are you okay?

LEIA: I’m fine Luke.

LUKE: I heard you were taken to hospital.

LEIA: I _am_ in hospital. My ankle broke my fall.

LUKE: For fuck’s sake. 

LEIA: I’m going into surgery in the next little while. 

LUKE: Did they catch the guy?

LEIA: Yes, security is holding him. He’s one of the newer beta-rights figures.

LUKE: I hope you’re going to charge him.

LEIA: I need to talk to my PR person.

LUKE: _He pushed you down a flight of stairs_ , Leia.

LEIA: Oh, thank-you for clarifying that.

LUKE: Leia…

LEIA: It’s too bad. The doctors say I’m going to have a cast for the summer. No swimming at the cottage for me this year. 

LUKE: Leia, this is serious. 

LEIA: It’s nothing more than I signed up for. It’s going to be fine.

LUKE: *sighs* School will be out in a few weeks. Once things settle down I’ll come stay with you for a bit.

LEIA: I’m sure Threepio will appreciate it.

LUKE: I’m glad you’re okay. 

LEIA: Me too. Otherwise who would look after you?

LUKE: Tell Threepio to call me when you get out of surgery. 

LEIA: Will do.

* * *

[...]

LUKE: You sound frustrated.

KAYDEL: Sorry, I don’t mean to. I- I’ve just been trying to do this side project with Statura, and things keep getting delayed.

LUKE: Do you need me to talk to him? Light a fire under his ass?

KAYDEL: No! I mean- Don’t. It’s not his fault. We’re just having trouble getting access to certain equipment. 

LUKE: What’s your project?

KAYDEL: It’s… complicated...

LUKE: Hm.

KAYDEL: My other paper is really shaping up though. Can I send you draft? 

LUKE: Yeah, I’d love to read it. 

KAYDEL: Okay… sent.

[...]

* * *

R.C.I.: _You have a collect call from an inmate at the Redguard Correctional Institute. Will you accept the charges?_

LUKE: Yes. 

R.C.I.: _Connecting._ Hi Luke? It’s Rian.

LUKE: … Hey Rian, what’s up?

R.C.I.: I don’t know if I can do this?

LUKE: What are you talking about?

R.C.I.: I’m still a month out from release and already I’m being targeted.

LUKE: What are they doing?

R.C.I.: Less food at the caf. The guards are getting pushy. I almost lost it yesterday. I’m _not_ going to make it another month. I can’t _do_ this. 

LUKE: You _can_ do this. You have to.

R.C.I.: Maybe someone else can, but not me. 

LUKE: Why do you say that?

R.C.I.: Because I’m a _shitty_ alpha. I always have been. I’m not tough enough for this place… I’m never going to get out of here.

LUKE: Do you really think that being a bigger, tougher alpha is the way to get out there? That place is built to _keep alphas in_. How is being a big brash alpha supposed to help? You were one of the smartest kids that we ever had at the school. _That_ place is a puzzle. You can get out, but you need to find the way. Stop trying to be _more of an alpha_ and just be yourself. You’re only going to make mistakes if you’re also trying to be something you’re not.

R.C.I.: But... what do I _do_?

LUKE: I don’t have an answer for you. _You_ need to find it for yourself. And if you don’t know what to do… just... breathe. ... Can you do that?

R.C.I.: I’ll try.

LUKE: Do you remember what I used to teach about ‘trying’?

R.C.I.: … Yes sir.

LUKE: Good. 

* * *

Luke took the cab, not back to the school, but to the other side of town where, in a row, sat a department store, a motel, and a dry cleaners. When the department store opened he bought a new set of clothes (shirt, pants, shoes, belt, everything) trying not to handle them too much. He rented a room at the motel so he could shower again (to his alpha’s dismay) and dressed in the new clothes. He dropped his old clothes off at the dry cleaners and took a second cab to the school.

“Luke… so nice of you to join us today.” The older woman barely looked up from her work.

“Good morning Emmeline,” Luke tried to act like his usual self as he walked up to her desk, even though he felt like anything but. “Anything exciting happen while I was away?”

“Not particularly. It’s all there waiting for you.” She nodded her head in the direction of his office. “Some of the students have been asking after Miss Jade. They seem to like her.”

At that his alpha protested, sleepily. “Hrm. Were you able to get a sub?”

“Yes the young fellow that covered for Porkins last year. He also said he’d take your night shifts this weekend. Have you heard from Miss Jade? Will she be back for Monday?”

Luke grimaced internally _._ He might as well do this now. “Ah, about Miss Jade, I’ve been in touch with her. She feeling better, but she’s not sure if she’s going to be coming back.

The older woman paused and gave a disapproving look; he knew what she was thinking.

“It’s not that, Emmie. Her mom died last year, and she’s just not sure if she’s ready to come back.”

“So she says.”

“Emmie…”

“Well that’s too bad. I’ll put a posting up. And I’ll ask the sub if he can stay on for a bit.”

“Thanks.”

There were stacks of paperwork waiting for him in the office. He blasted through what he could, at least getting the urgent things out of the way.

The new student arrived with his parents a little before noon. Getting him sorted out and settled ate up the rest of the day. Luke hoped he was coming across as supportive - it was a tough transition - but he knew there were moments when his attention slipped. It was probably to be expected but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Had she woken up? Was she okay? Did she leave her house? Would she try to come to the school (he may have hidden her car keys on top of the fridge in a cheap attempt to prevent that)? He checked his phone when he could but there were no calls. 

Luke tracked down the sub and let him know that he may spend the weekend in town. He asked him to keep an eye on the new kid, and gave him his cell number in case there were problems. Luke felt guilty about being away but there was also now a part of him that wanted to go back to Mara’s house and never leave her. 

Luke left the school as soon as he could, bringing a few items he wasn’t sure if he would need. He drove his car back to the motel, rented a room for the night and left a clean set of clothes inside. He took a cab to Mara’s house, giving him time to think on the ride over. 

She had said things to him that he couldn’t unhear: that she was so happy she had found him, that she didn’t want him to go. He wanted to believe those things so badly. But he also knew that she was in heat when she said them. She may feel differently now. She may want nothing to do with him. She may hate him. His trip to her house may end at the front door. He tried to think of all the ways in which she may react, so that he might be ready, might be prepared.

But when the cab pulled up Mara’s he got a surprise he wasn’t expecting: a beige station wagon parked just slightly up the street. A heavy feeling formed in Luke’s gut. He paid the for the cab and after it had gone he walked to the passenger side of the vehicle and got in. He didn’t look at the driver; he didn’t have to. 

“Hi Luke.”

He swallowed. “Hi Ahsoka.” 

Ahsoka had been Luke’s handler at Alpha Services since he started on the research study. Part of her job was monitoring his tracker location.

“When I called Emmeline, she said you were at a motel the last few days.”

 _Thanks for saying something, Emmie_. “Yeah, that’s what I told her.”

“This doesn’t look like a motel.”

Luke glanced back at the small green bungalow. “No, it’s not.”

“She said you were sick. You _and_ another teacher.”

“Mm.”

“The new English teacher, Mara Jade.”

“Mm.” 

“Who I suspect lives here.”

Luke just swallowed and stayed quiet.

“Do I need to ask why you and her spent three days holed up in her house?”

“I think you know why,” Luke answered quietly.

“Damn it Luke.” Ahsoka sighed. “You know, covering for you is a lot easier if you give me a heads up.”

Luckily Ahsoka was one of Leia’s people on the inside of Alpha Services.

“Sorry. It slipped my mind.”

“Maybe you should fill me in.”

He did so, though much of the last few days he painted over with broad brush strokes. 

“So what happens next between you two?” 

“I have no idea.” Luke was simultaneously excited and terrified at the prospect. 

“Well when you figure it out, can you _please_ let me know so I can stay ahead of things?”

Luke nodded. When she didn’t seem to have anything more to say Luke made to get out of the car.

“Hey Luke.” He turned back to find Ahsoka giving him a warm smile. “I hope things work out.”

The station wagon drove off, leaving him alone on the quiet street. 

He peaked in the garage and - even though he was expecting nothing else - he was relieved to see that the car was still there. But when he knocked on the door there was no answer. He knocked again. After knocking a third time he let himself in with the spare key he had used to lock up when he left.

“Mara?” Inside the house was completely still. The rooms in the hall were empty. In her room the sheets had been changed, but there was no sign of her. He was starting to panic when he caught a whiff of something sweet coming in through the window from the backyard. Young Luke may not have been sure what pot smelt like, but headmaster Luke did; it invariably turned up at the school every few years. 

He moved quickly through the house. At the back of the kitchen a large glass sliding door led to the back yard. He opened it and strode onto a large deck. A set of chairs and patio table sat empty next to the barbeque. The simple square backyard was hemmed in with thick cedar hedges on all sides. Several neglected gardens ringed a lush lawn. Empty. The only living things were a few small birds flitting among the trees. 

_Shit._ He mind started to spin with all the places she might be and his chest started to clench with the overwhelming number of possibilities. He should recheck the house first. He turned back to go inside but the voice stopped him before he could move inside.

“Luke.”

He whirled around. Tucked back along the wing of the house that held the bedrooms was a thin long deck with two lounging deck chairs. Mara sat in one, wearing a black yoga tank and pants, a joint in one hand. Her expression was flat, her eyes unreadable. 

And suddenly Luke really didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, you didn’t answer the door. I let myself in.”

She just looked at him.

“I- I had borrowed a key so I could lock up when I left.”

At that, she looked down at the ground in front of her. The rest of her hadn’t moved an inch.

His chest felt tight again. His alpha whimpered with nothing useful to add. He was debating what he should do (step towards her? say something? do nothing?) when a door slammed at the neighbour’s. Both their heads snapped in the direction of the sound and Luke could see someone walking on the other side of the cedars. 

Mara was up in a flash, putting out her joint, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him in through the sliding door. She let go the moment they were inside, closing the door behind them. She drew the large vertical shades across the door and then dropped the blinds the window.

Suddenly, it was suddenly quite dark in the kitchen. Mara stood, arms crossed, between Luke and the window. His eyes had not yet adjusted to the dim interior, her face seemed shrouded in shadow. 

After a long moment she spoke, her voice flat. “Talk.” 

“Mara I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I never would have let you go near the school if I did.” That, at least, he could say to the shadow of her face. What followed he could not; instead he focused on her shoulder, or her hand. “And I’m so sorry about the last three days. It was wrong. I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t have anyone else to look after you. I was afraid if I left you alone you’d wander off or try to go to the school. I couldn’t let you do that. So I stayed, and I had fully intended that nothing was going to happen.” He swallowed. “It did though. And I’m so sorry because you didn’t have a choice, not a real choice. I just wanted you to be safe. I tried to stop it but when I did you’d cry. I couldn’t stand seeing you like that, but I am still so sorry. And I’m sorry I had to go this morning, that I had to leave you alone. Something came up at the school. I had to be there.” 

During all this, she did not move. “So that was you, at the farm?”

He nodded. 

“Did you know it was me? When you hired me?”

He shook his head. “No, I swear I didn’t. Not until I brought you home and I saw your purse; you were wearing it that day. And I’m sorry I used that to try to calm you down because... it just made things worse.” 

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Have you done that before? For other… women?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’d never done that.”

She took a step forward. “Did you enjoy it?”

He swallowed, eye still down. “Yes. For which I’m sorry. The whole point of it was to help you, not me. But I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. I spent years thinking about you, and then, here you were.” Here she was, just inches away from him. In three days he had learned every inch of skin on her body, and yet right now he couldn’t even look at her for the shame he felt. He’s pretty sure his heart would stop if he looked at her and saw either scorn or regret. So he didn’t look and the moment stretched, painfully so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _“Mara sat, wearing a black yoga tank and pants, a joint in one hand. Her expression was flat, her eyes unreadable.”_
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	16. Chapter 16

**June**

It’s noon on a Friday, which means that Kaydel is meeting Lusica for coffee in the lobby of the Medical Sciences Building. Even though they live together, even if they can only meet for a few minutes, Fridays at noon is their coffee time together.

Kaydel smiles to herself as she waits for Lusica to join her at their usual table. She’s been smiling all week because it’s finally done, it was finally sent; Kaydel’s ‘research survey’ for Rian.

The final few steps had been _far_ more tedious than Kaydel had expected. Because there were pheromones involved - hers specifically - the final package had to be assembled in an air-quality controlled lab in the Medical Sciences Building, and then run through a pheromone detector in said lab so that the package could get an approval certificate before being couriered to Redguard. 

It was a safety precaution, standard for any alpha research involving pheromones. Many years ago, when pheromone research was just getting started, a research package containing an unnecessarily strong mixture of omega pheromones was sent to a small prison that didn’t have any air quality control equipment. About half of the inmates simultaneously went into rut. There were serious injuries sustained by both alphas and prison staff. Two of the alphas died. Of course, all the alphas involved had their sentences extended. Since then heavy restrictions were put in place about how strong the pheromone concentrations could be - both individual samples and the final package - especially when sending them to a facility that housed multiple alphas. 

UofT was the only university in the province with a pheromone detector. The machines were _very_ expensive. Alpha Services had a mobile unit for criminal investigations. The only other detectors were at international airports and border crossings - no country willingly allowed alphas to cross into them. 

Of course, Kaydel needed access to UofT’s detector, because it was the only one that could provide the expected approval certificate. The problem was that her pheromones were supposed to be collected in the lab - as per the strict protocols that Statura insisted on following - and the pheromone lab was constantly in use. Kaydel tried to convince Statura to bend the protocols - have Statura smuggle out some swatches so that she could rub her scent on to them and smuggle them back in - but Statura was adamant about the safety protocols. It was rather absurd; there was no way that they were going to create a problematic package by doing that but he wouldn’t budge on this. Kaydel figured that he was just using it as an excuse to delay the package, but accusing him of that wasn’t going to change anything.

So it wasn’t until there was a big end of year party for the a/o grad students and faculty - which Kaydel and Statura were _supposed_ to be at - that they snuck into the lab and got the package assembled. 

Statura actually had to do all of the work, because Kaydel couldn’t go into the lab without contaminating her package (not to mention the lab). So she watched him through layers of plexiglass partitions, and told him what to do via walky-talky. He had grumbled about having to wear the white, stuffy isolation gown to help reduce contamination.

But now it’s done all she has to do is wait. Not that she’d been wasting her time. In the last two months she’d analysed all of her prison-sanction data and had a pretty good draft written. She had also had the chance to spend more time with Lusica now that she wasn’t constantly driving across the province. And she also had found the time to do more ‘behavioural research’ watching a certain a/o porn site… that showcased some rather handsome alphas… giving her the chance to imagine some rather impressive kno-

Lusica is looking at her expectantly. 

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Do you want to go clubbing on Saturday?”

“Sorry. Yes. That sounds like fun.”

“What do you want to do for...?” Lusica’s voice trails off and her voice drops in volume. “Kay, don’t turn around, but I think that that man behind you is looking at you.”

“What?” _Shit._ She drops her voice too. “Who is it?”

“I’m not sure. I think he’s faculty. I’ve seen him in the building before.”

Kaydel pulls out her phone, switches the camera to self-facing and starts panning the seats behind her.

“Grey jacket.” Lusica whispers as she nonchalantly sips her coffee.

“Got him.” _Crap._ “It’s… it’s okay. I know what this is about. He’s a/o faculty. He’s… running a quasi-experiment with the students. It’s a proof of concept thing.” He’s not, but she had to say something.

“Soo…..?”

“Just ignore him.”

“You’re sure?” Lusica looked skeptical.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“‘Kay. Anyway, my PCR run is finishing. I need to get back to the lab. You’re sure it’s okay if I go.” Lusica glanced at the man for a fraction of a second. 

“Yeah I’m sure. See you later.”

“Later.”

Lusica stands and heads off to the elevators. Kaydel takes a deep breath and uses her phone again to peak at the man sitting a few tables behind her. He’s holding a newspaper up in front of him, as if reading, but his eyes keep moving to her. _Shit._ He _has_ to know. How did _he_ find out? This is supposed to be a secret. What the heck is she going to _do_?

But before she did anything, she has to be sure. She takes a deep breath.

 _You can do this._ She stands, gathers her things and starts for one of the stairwells. As she reaches it she catches his figure following her out of the corner of her eye. But that could be coincidence. Maybe he’s just going to his lab.

As she ascends she hears the door below her open and, a moment later, footsteps on the stairs. 

She gets off on three - not his floor - and starts moving down the long hall. Just as she takes a right at next corner the door to the stairwell opens and she hears feet shuffling quickly behind her. The footsteps slow down and pause, only to hurry again after she takes the second right. If she was actually going somewhere in the building she should turn left next, otherwise she would just be going in circles… but that’s exactly what she wants. If he’s still following her after the third right then he’s obviously following her.

She takes the third right but instead of walking all the way down the hall to the stairwell she tucks herself into an alcove. And following the same pattern as before, a moment later the footsteps come around the corner. _Crap_. He _is_ following her. He _does_ know.

Kaydel could try to give him the slip. He might walk right past the alcove and not notice her. She could slip off her shoes and walk back the other way and get lost in the maze of hallways.

A tiny voice in her head reminds her of Luke and Leia’s warnings to avoid detection, that getting found out only put her at risk of being reported. But is there a point to that? He _knows_ who she is - obviously. Running away - like a frightened omega - would only delay things. No, she wants to face this on her terms. Deep down she had a feeling, an intuition, that this was safe, even though no one had explicitly given this individual the thumb’s up.

She can hear the footsteps coming closer and closer, faster now because he probably thinks that she must have run ahead of him.

The steps are almost on top of her and then she can see his figure emerge from around the corner of the alcove. He doesn’t notice her. He would have kept on walking if she didn’t anything. 

“Dr. Ackbar.”

“AHH!” the older man jumps and clutches his chest for a moment. But then he composes himself, and turns back to her with a very sheepish look. “Bah, trapped.” 

* * *

They’re in Ackbar’s inner office. He hits play on the video on his computer. 

Statura is wearing a white isolation gown. Kaydel is sitting on a stool. He approaches her and she lifts her chin. He gingerly rubs a large square of cotton on her neck. Her mouth moves but if there was a microphone it didn’t pick up her voice. A moment later Kaydel grabs the swab from him and starts rubbing her neck, much more aggressively than he had been. He holds the foil envelope open for her and she slides the square of cotton inside. Statura then moves through a series of isolation rooms back to the main lab, while Kaydel walks back out into the non-isolated part of the lab. 

Ackbar hits pause and clears his throat. “I had to put the surveillance cameras in a few years ago because we kept running out of pheromones unexpectedly. One of the students was selling them on the black market as aphrodisiacs. We had to expel him after that.”

She turns to him. “I hope you don’t mind what we did.”

The old researcher smiles at her in a very grandfatherly way, “Of course not.” He turns to his computer, selects the security file in question, deletes it and empties his recycle bin. “It’s not fair what we’ve done to alphas and omegas. Restricting freedoms. Forcing you into hiding.” He sighs. “It’s a different world now, and I don’t know how anyone can see it as _better_.” 

She realizes that Askbar is probably old enough to remember the pre-segregation era. “Thank you, for seeing it that way.” _Thank you for not turning me in._

“Hm. So this fellow of yours. You’re hoping he will be getting out soon?”

It was Kaydel’s turn to sigh. “Hope is about all I can do.”

“Hope is important. It keeps us going.” He gives her a reassuring smile.

Kaydel wishes she felt more reassured. “You know, I still feel like I have no idea what I’m getting into.”

“Oh? What do you have questions about?”

* * *

Ackbar passes her the next envelop. “Now, this sample was from a thirty-seven year old alpha from up north. Neutral emotional state. We had had lunch and I’d been interviewing him for about an hour when the sample was taken.”

She holds the open envelope up to her face and inhales. 

She could now recognise the ‘alpha’ness of each sample. After the first dozen or so it finally hit her that that’s what she had been smelling at the prisons - dozens of alphas, with their scents all layered over each other, despite the air filters. It’s what she had smelled on Luke’s coat too. But while she can recognise them all as alpha pheromones, she also can smell how they are distinct from each other. It’s like each one occupies a different _shape_ inside her head. “Hmm. He smells….” Her words are failing her again. 

“Close your eyes, let it comes to you.”

She closes her eyes and inhales again, and there- she gets the impression of a tall, strong body. “Strong… healthy… that’s how he smells.”

“Hm.” Ackbar just nods and takes the envelope back from her. Ackbar had been fairly certain that these sample were weak enough and old enough that they wouldn’t push her into heat, but she was glad that she had the emergency heat medication from Dr. Holdo all the same. “Now try this one.” 

“Ooo, hrmmm.” The scent was acrid, greasy. “I think I like him the least.” She hands him back the envelope.

“ _That_ fellow was constantly in a dour mood.” Ackbar files it back in the large box that sits on his lap and selects another sample. “This one was from a 25 year old, quite tall. He used to live in Mississauga but is now out in the country of course.”

“Hmm… This is… fresher. There’s something different between the younger and the older ones.” 

Ackbars smiles. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, both showing off his collection and observing Kaydel’s reactions. Over the afternoon a few students had stopped by his office but he dealt with them quickly in the hall and returned to her promptly. “Okay, and now here are two samples from the same alpha. One after a nice long conversation, and the second just minutes later after he accidently spilled his coffee and burned himself…”

* * *

The club is filled with moving lights and loud thumping music. “Okay, so what _is_ going on with you?” Lusica asks between sips of her drink.

“What do you mean?” Kaydel asks innocently. The club is filled with hot bodies, so they’re standing under an air vent to take advantage of the breeze. 

“I mean, I’ve pointed out four different guys tonight, all of which you would have been all over a year ago, and you’ve barely looked at them.”

Kaydel swallows. “So?”

“So it’s just very different for you. Like... are you seeing someone?”

Kaydel feels caught for the second time in two days. “It’s... complicated.”

“Oh my gods, you _are_ seeing someone.” Kaydel cringes at the tiny bit of hurt in Lusica’s words.

“I’m not... really… yet.”

“But there is someone?”

Kaydel doesn’t answer.

“Is this the guy you’ve been talking to on the phone with?” 

_What!? Oh._ Maybe Kaydel had become to casual with her conversations with Luke, sometimes walking out the common room while she had him on the phone. Her face starts feeling warm. “I-” Maybe it would be simpler just to let Lusica think that. “We’re not officially a thing.”

“But… you’re holding out that maybe that will happen?”

“Maybe, just a little.” Kaydel can’t stop the face splitting grin as she thinks of Rian’s forearms. 

“Oooh.” Lusica gapes at her reaction. “Wow. I think you have it bad. So what’s the deal? Who is he?”

“I… Just someone I met. He’s not from the city.”

“What does he do?”

Kaydel grasps at the one conversation she had had with him. “Farming, actually.”

“Oh... I was not expecting _that_.”

“Yeah, neither was I.”

“Planning any trips to the country soon?”

Kaydel takes a deep breath. “Maaaaybe. I’m not sure.”

“Okay, well… just… be safe whatever you do. Don’t get yourself trapped in the middle of nowhere with a psychopath or something.”

“Wow, I finally really like someone and you become ultra encouraging, thanks.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I know.” Right then Kaydel wishes so badly that she could just tell Lusica everything. But already more people knew than she had intended and she was still a little uneasy about Lusica’s choice of employer. Which reminds her, she had wanted to ask… “So when do you start at-” Was there something on the air? She inhales through her nose again. There _is_ something on the air. Something that fits a certain shape in her mind. But that’s _impossible_. 

Something here smells like _alpha._

“Kay?”

Kaydel’s eyes fling about the room, her nostrils flaring instinctively. Something smells like alpha and it _does not smell right._ “We need to go.” She sets down her drink, grabs Lusica by the hand and starts walking towards the back exit. 

“What? Kay, we just got here.”

She’s relieved when the smell disappears as she hurries towards the exit. Is she just being paranoid? Is she wrong? Could it have been someone’s cologne? But something deep down keeps telling her _not right not right not right._ She has her phone out and is hailing for a ride as they reach the exit.

“Kay? Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry, we really just really need to go.” When they hit the alley she bolts for the street dragging Lusica with her. It’s still raining lightly from earlier. The sidewalk is crowded with people lined up to get inside.

A cab sits at the curb; she makes eyes with the driver who signals her to get in. 

“Didn’t you just hail one on your phone?”

“I’ll cancel it.” Kaydel pulls her friend in the taxi behind her. 

“It’s your rating.”

“College and Spadina.” The cabbie couldn’t start the car fast enough for Kaydel. She looks back at the club as they pull away. She doesn’t see anyone following them but she still feels… hunted. 

“Kay, are you okay? Did someone spike your drink?”

Kaydel realizes suddenly how insane she probably seems right now. “No, I- I thought I saw someone. Sorry I just got freaked out.”

“Who?”

“Just, someone that looked like- I don’t know what I saw.” _I don’t know what I smelled_. 

When she looks back to Lusica, concern is painted all across her friend’s face. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry. I- I just… had to leave.”

“Okay.” Lusica tells her with a tone that says it’s not. “Let’s just go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain can't help melding Ackbar with David Attenborough.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up for Rian at the prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew that research could be so interesting?
> 
>  **Trigger Warning** (medium), details in end notes.

Most of the alphas are out on the yard, a large stretch of concrete hemmed in on two sides by the prison’s walls and the other sides by two parallel chain link fences topped with barbed wire. It’s overcast. It feels like it’s going to rain, but probably not before the alphas are herded back inside for the evening meal. 

All the usual alphas are monopolizing the exercise equipment. Some are lifting weights. Some, who can’t get on the equipment, are arm wrestling on the chess tables. Other alphas mull around the yard, either in small groups or alone.

Rian sits on a bench next to Ziff. 

Ziff is working on a commision, a rather unusual one by his standards. Somehow Chirrut had gotten word to Ziff that he wanted an anniversary gift for Baze, portrait of the two of them. The alpha couple is sitting on the other side of the yard, allowing Ziff to glance at them as he works. Ziff has drawn them from the shoulders up, facing each other at a three quarter turn. Baze is holding Chirrut’s face, as if they are about to kiss. 

Ziff has already put more work into it than he normally would given the price he quoted to Chirrut. Rian doesn’t blame him. Rian had once tried to estimate how many porn sketches Ziff had drawn during his stay at Redguard. Eventually anything is going to get tiresome.

Well… almost anything, Rian thinks as he thinks wistfully of the research girl.

Rian is watching a different pair across the yard. Boba and his father, Jango. They are standing, Jango in front, talking to several other alphas. Jango stands at his full height, shoulders back, wide stance; one of the other alphas mirrors his posture. Boba stands a little beside and behind his father. He was certainly paying attention to his father’s conversation, but at no time makes to join in.

Rian watches them often, analysing the dynamic between them.

His stomach growls. Receiving half portions at the caf has become the new norm over the last few weeks. It was starting to get to him. His stomach growls again.

 _Breathe_. Skywalker’s words come back to him. He takes a deep breath. 

It’s almost time for supper. He should buy some food off of the other inmates with some of his cigarettes. He didn’t have many left - he had spent most of them buying back sketches of the research girl - but he could afford a few. Of course his cigarettes are all under his mattress and he’d rather not go back to his cell alone. He’s _not_ about to ask Ziff to accompany him.

Just then he notices Jango and Boba heading for the door that leads back inside. Perfect. “Hey, I’ll see ya at the caf,” he says as he gets up to follow.

“Hmm. See ya.” Ziff doesn’t look up, still concentrating on the shading around Chirrut’s eyes.

Rian follows Jango and Boba into the building. The halls between the yard and the cell block are open for free passage. Rian can hear Jango speaking to his son. Boba was obviously attentive to his father’s words, leaning in to listen, nodding. 

At the cell block Rian ceases to follow them and goes to his cell. He can hear, Jango’s low voice continuing to instruct Boba in whatever they were talking about. Their cell was almost straight across from Rian’s, so after grabbing a few cigarettes he continues to watch them from his bunk.

In their cell, Jango sits a the edge of the lower bunk, while Boba sits against the wall on the floor across from him. Rian can’t make out the words, but it’s clear that Boba is interested in what his father is telling him.

Suddenly Jango stops speaking and looks out of his cell. Rian can hear it too now. Boots. Lots of boots marching down the hall. 

The security alarm sounds and red light lights start flashing overhead, indicating temporary lock down on the block. 

_What the fuck?_

Rian hops off his bunk, closes his cell door and lays on the ground. The cement was cold. He angles himself so he can watch through the bars.

Phasma walks onto the block, a squad of a dozen or so guards behind her. She and the guards approach and surround one of the cells almost across from him. Jango and Boba’s cell. 

Rian strains to hear what’s being said. There is some back and forth, but then Jango’s voice rings out louder, “We fought to be here together. That was the _deal_.”

And then the guards rush the cell. Rian can’t see exactly what’s going on but suddenly many voices are calling, “ _On the ground!_ ” and “ _Move!_ ” 

There’s a scuffle, and finally several guards pull Jango out of the cell.

“ _Dad_ \- _ow!_ ” 

“ _Boba_!” Jango twists out of the guards’ grip, knocking two to the ground and running back for the cell door, which is exactly when Phasma strikes him across the back with the stun baton, sizzling as it hits. Jango crumbles into a heap on the cement floor.

“Dad!”

“Silence him!” came Phasma’s order. 

There’s the sound of a struggle, and several grunts emanate from Boba’s cell. But Phasma pays it no heed. She grabs one of Jango’s ankles and drags him to the other side of the cell block, almost in front of Rian’s cell. She plants a boot directly in the center of his back and starts reading her paperwork to him again.

“The decision to allow you to serve your sentence in the presence of your alpha son, who is also currently incarcerated, has been reversed. You will be transferred back to the Stalgasin Correctional Institute immediately. Failure to comply will be seen as breach of sentence and will carry consequences. Appeals may be made after the transfer is complete.” She removes her boot from his back and takes several steps towards the exit. “So be a good dog and _heel_.”

Jango looks like he is still dazed from the taser strike. He gets to his hands and knees and starts to crawl, not to Phasma but back towards his cell. 

It takes Phasma only two steps to close the distance and with a smooth motion she kicks Jango square in the ribs. Jango goes down to his elbows with a yell.

Phasma takes a step back. “I said _heel_.”

Again Jango gets to his hands and starts to crawl to his cell, and once it is clear he has no intention of listening to the guard captain, Phasma comes in for a second kick and he goes right to the floor.

“You stupid fucking piece of shit dog!” She leans over him. “ _You_ do not get to decide where you go! I will say where you go!” She takes a few more steps towards the exit this time. “ _Heel!_ ” 

Jango, obviously in pain, gets to his knees and glares at her. “Fuck you.”

Her grunt is primal as she comes in and kicks him again, and again, and again. Jango can only curl up.

The other guards just watch. Rian can hear Boba struggling, at least until another taser goes off.

Phasma is still kicking Jango when a deep voice sounds, “ _That’s enough!”_ Rian’s head whips towards the newcomer. It was Gerrera, striding quickly onto the block. “What the hell is going on here?”

Phasma’s voice has suddenly lost the anger that he had a moment ago, responding now as if discussing normal office procedure. “Nothing sir. An inmate is resisting being transferred. We have it under control.”

Gerrera does not seem intimidated by the guard captain’s stature. “This prisoner will be taken to the medical ward and cleared before there is any transfer.”

“But sir-”

“I don’t need a dead alpha on my watch. Is that clear Phasma?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call for a medical team to move him.” And with that Gerrera leaves.

Rian looks back to Jango. His breaths are shallow and hitched at the end, but didn’t seem too laboured. 

A tall set of boots strides up to the bars of Rian’s cell, and Rian looks up through the bars on instinct. 

“What are _you_ looking at, runt?” The scowl has returned to Phasma’s voice.

In shame, all Rian can do is drop his eyes to the floor until she walks off.

* * *

“Lak says there’s no surveillance footage.” Ziff is below him at one of the tables, drawing.

“Of course there isn’t. The guards are all going to have the same story, and when all the alphas give a different one they’ll go with what the guards say.” Rian rubs his face as he lays on his bunk.

“Boba said it’s going to be a few more days before his dad is cleared medically. Their lawyer is trying to block the transfer.”

Slim chance of that happening, Rian thinks. He stares at the ceiling and the image of Phasma’s foot colliding with Jango’s side plays out in front of him again.

“ _Casterman._ ” 

Rian jolts upright. _Fuck_. It was just Praster one of the older alphas; his prison job was fetching inmates for non-urgent matters.

Rian swings his legs over the edge of the bunk and tries to act like he hadn’t been on edge for the last several days. “That’s me.”

“You…” The tall alpha squints at the paperwork in had hand. “...have been selected for a follow up research study. Would you like to participate?”

Rian pauses at the words ‘ _research study’._ He can feel his pulse quicken. “Yeah- umm, yeah, I’ll do that.” 

“Follow me, then.”

“Catch you later,” Rian says to Ziff as he hurries to go. If Ziff says anything in return he doesn’t notice.

Rian has to walk quickly to keep up with the other alpha’s strides. “What kind of survey is it?”

Praster shrugs. “Don’t know. Just that they asked for you.”

Rian feels impatient even if the pace is a little faster than his usual walking speed. This could just be nothing, he tells himself. This could be unrelated. But... what if it’s not? 

Praster brings him to a checkpoint near the medical wing where he hands his paperwork to the guards there. Rian is searched, put into ankle cuffs and brought into a room with a table and chair. He sits and one of the research aides in a white lab coat walks him through the consent form which he signs quickly with a pen chained to the desk. The aide brings out a large white box, already partly opened and sets it in front of him. “You can take up to three hours.”

After the beta leaves, Rian lifts the lid.

At the top of the box’s contents there is an instruction sheet.

_To participant (Rian Casterman),_

_Thank you for volunteering for this study. Please note that you may choose to skip any questions that you do not wish to answer. You may do Parts A and B of the study in any order. Please read the instructions for Part B carefully._

Rian sets the page aside and pulls out the next item in the box, a booklet of eight-and-a-half-by-eleven pieces of paper marked “- Part A -”. He flips it open, finding pages of multiple choice questions. The questionnaire starts with basic information questions: age, age of presentation, height, weight. It all seems very standard. Next: 

_What courses did you like in school (please check all that apply)_. 

Below are several columns, with school subjects listed in alphabetical order. Rian checks most of the boxes. Then it’s food preferences, then sports preferences. The questions seem routine enough. 

Perhaps this is just some random study after all. Oh well. Three hours in a semi air filtered room is still a bit of a perk. He carries on through the questions and eventually comes to:

 _What hobbies/ personal interests do you have (please check all that apply)_ : ...

Again, there are a score of choices divided in several rows. But the very first one - the only one not in alphabetical order - is “ _rifle hunting_ ”.

 _‘Everyone in the area knows I used to rifle hunt… before I presented.’_ He had said that, to the research girl. 

_Oh fuck._ He covers the lower half of his face with his hand, like he doesn’t trust himself not to speak. _It_ is _her_. He looks down at the paper. She wrote this… for him. _Oh fuck_. Skywalker was telling the truth. Suddenly Rian feels giddy and nervous and… he has no idea what to feel because he still doesn’t understand how this could be happening to him. He closes his eyes.

 _Be cool_ , he tells himself. She was reaching out to him. He just needs to go with it, and see what happens. He answers the hobby question and turns the page. At the top of the next, there is a reminder: _Please remember that all questions are voluntary. You may choose to skip any question that you do not wish to answer._

_Have you ever kissed someone? yes / no_

_Oh shit_. He had read the question a few times over to make sure he was seeing it right. 

_Have you ever kissed someone? yes / no_

Nope. No mistake. _Shit_. He swallows. He has a feeling where this is going. Rather than answering he reads ahead. 

_Have you ever engaged in over clothing touching? yes / no_

_Have you ever engaged in under clothing touching? yes / no_

_Have you ever given oral sex? yes / no_

_Have you ever received oral sex? yes / no_

_Have you ever engaged in sexual intercourse? yes / no_

_Have you ever knotted anyone? yes / no_

He swallows and flips the page…

_Given the choice, would you ever want a mate? yes / no / unsure_

_Given the choice, would you ever want children? yes / no / unsure_

He puts the booklet down and closes it. 

A moment ago he’d been felt somewhat nervous being asked about his sexual history - or lack thereof - but now… _Holy fucking fuck_. He would be hard pressed to name an alpha that _didn’t_ want, on some level, an omega mate. Of course he too had fantasized about such a thing but… being asked that… but then _next_ question. _Holy fuck_. It made it all hit home. This is really happening. And the problem is, is that for that last question... he doesn’t know what to say because he had never contemplated ever having to make that choice.

He pushes the booklet away. He needs a minute. He’s not running from these questions, he’s just… deferring them for a moment. 

He looks in the box. The next booklet, ‘ _\- Part B -_ ’, is much shorter, only a couple of pages. He takes it out and flips to the first one.

 _Pheromone Sample Study_ , the title read. 

_Oh_. His eyebrow rises on its own.

_Please DO NOT rip the envelopes. Please open them using the resealable flap._

_1 - Open envelope B1. Envelope ‘B1’ contains an omega pheromone sample. You are free to smell this sample as much as you would like while you are taking the survey. At the end of the survey place the sample swatch back in the envelope and reseal it. ***It is VERY important to wipe yourself down with the cleansing swatch (envelope B3) at the end of the study.***_

Rian looks back in the box. Next on top is an envelope marked ‘B1’. _Did she..?_ He reaches for it. As he works the envelope open, something sweet starts to infuse the air. Once open, he puts his face to the opening and takes a tentative breath through his nose. _Oh holy shit._

You could buy artificial omega pheromones (it was illegal to buy real ones) and Rian had tried them in the listless years after he left Yavingard. They were _interesting_ , but the novelty wore off quickly. But this… this is fucking different. This has depth... balance. This smells… _amazing_. Sweet, like summer when the sun filters through the trees. He inhales again and the image of the research girl’s smile comes rushing to his mind. This _has_ to be her, at least he hopes it is. 

He reaches into the envelope and pulls out the cotton swatch. He cups it around his nose, breathing in and out. 

In truth, it’s not like the scent is overly strong; it’s a little degraded with time. But it tugs at something deep within him. It tells him to relax. He could sit here all day and do this. If it wasn’t for the security cameras - he’s pretty sure they _are_ working - he easily could jerk off to this. But if he did they’d kick him out, and he’d rather stay and take in the scent.

He’s not sure how long he just sits there, breathing it in. At some point he looks again at the other Part B instructions. 

_2 - Complete the Part B survey (see next page)._

_3 - After putting swatch B1 back in envelope B1, remove blank swatch from envelope B2. Rub thoroughly on your neck glands, replace in envelope B2 and reseal envelope._

_Oh fuck._ She wants to know what _he_ smells like. Deep down some part of Rian preens in a way it never has before.

_4 - After finishing with envelopes B1 and B2, use cleaning swatch in envelope B3 to rub down all areas of yourself that came in contact with swatch B1. ***DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP. This step is important for ensuring your safety.***_

The thought of being parted from this scent, let alone removing it from his body, rankles at him, but rationally he understands it. 

He flips the page. There are only a few questions, and he has no problems completing them. 

_With respect to the B1 pheromone sample, rate the following from 1 - not very much, to 5 - very much._

_How much do you like the scent on swatch B1?_ 1 2 3 4 **5**

 _How much are you sexually attracted to the scent on swatch B1?_ 1 2 3 4 **5**

 _How much would you want to meet someone with that scent?_ 1 2 3 4 **5**

He still holds the scent swatch up to his face, every breath pulling more and more sweet aroma in through his nose. If the staff are observing him on the security monitors, he probably looks ridiculous, but he really doesn’t care.

With the Part B questions done he sets the booklet aside and moves back to Part A. He stares at the booklet for a long time. His earlier feelings of trepidation still nag at him though they seem less now, soothed away my the pheromones he was inhaling. 

For a moment he leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling. This is about reaching back, he tells himself. 

He opens to where he left off and picks up the pen. He takes a deep breath. Just be honest, he thinks. He answers the questions. There are a few more pages after that and he answers those too. 

Once done he rechecks through Parts A and B, making sure he’s happy with all of his answers. 

He still has hours left on the clock, but he is quite content to sit and breathe the scented fabric. As he sits images of her come to his mind, some real - from the interview - most fictitious - either from Ziff’s sketches or his own imagination. 

At some point he takes the blank swatch out of envelope B2 and starts rubbing it on his neck glands, even as he still breathes in her scent (the one instruction he wasn’t quite following). He tucks the B2 swatch away in its envelope and a thought crosses his mind. Slowly, the way a young child tries to sneak cookies out of a jar, he brings the swatch with her scent down to his neck and rubs it lightly there. When he smells it again something deep within him approves of the new mix of scents. 

He spends the rest of his time like that, sitting and drinking her in, until the research aide tells him that he only has ten minutes left. After another few have pass, he begrudgingly puts the B1 swatch in its envelope, and scours his skin down with the cleansing swatch - hands, face, neck - removing her scent from his skin before he’s returned to his cell. 

* * *

_Have you ever kissed someone? **yes** / no_

_Have you ever engaged in over clothes touching? **yes** / no_

_Have you ever engaged in under clothes touching? yes / **no**_

_Have you ever given oral sex? yes / **no**_

_Have you ever received oral sex? yes / **no** _

_Have you ever engaged in sexual intercourse? yes / **no** _

_Have you ever knotted anyone? yes / **no**_

_Given the choice, would you ever want a mate? **yes** / no / unsure _

_Given the choice, would you ever want children? yes / no / **unsure** _

* * *

The next morning, Rian wakes before the morning bell as usual. He lands out of his bunk with a thud. He doesn’t reach for his notebook. Instead he just starts in on his morning exercises. 

He realizes after a few minutes that he isn’t counting his reps, but it doesn’t seem important. He just randomly switches between different exercises, doing whatever feels right. He skips crunches because he still is hard. 

He should take care of that. In the shower. He can do it in the shower, he thinks. 

The morning bell rings. Rian stands, looking out the bars. He hears Ziff get up behind him. 

“Morning man.” There’s a pause. Rian hears a big sniff behind him. “Oh no fucking way.” Suddenly Ziff’s hand is tugging his shirt down his back. Rian wheels, ready to punch Ziff in the face but the other alpha has already backed off with his hands up. “Hey, easy man,” The larger alpha circles him as best he can and calls out to the guards. “Hey, we got a redneck over here.”

 _What?_ Rian’s not thinking straight. 

Two CO’s come by and look at him for a moment. “Okay Casterman, get your shit together and let’s go.” 

“What?” 

He hears Ziff lifting his mattress behind him and suddenly he finds himself right in Ziff’s face. 

“Rian relax, here takes these.” Rian yanks the stack of his research girl sketches out of Ziff’s hands. “Alright buddy, time to go with the nice guards. Don’t bite anyone’s head off and try to have fun over the next few days, okay?”

“What?” Why were the lights so bright?

“Rian, wake the fuck up, man. You’re in rut.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning short version: graphic depictions of violence (Rian is a witness, but not a victim).
> 
> Trigger warning long version: Phasma and the guards attempt to remove Jango, Boba's father, from the prison. Jango resists and receives a pretty harsh beating from Phasma, and subsequently requires medical attention. This is at the end of the first section of text.
> 
> * * *
> 
> So believe me that I debated a lot about whether to include the, "Given the choice, would you ever want children?" question in Rian's survey. I kind of felt it was needed so we could get a big reaction out of Rian. In the earlier chapter dealing with Kaydel it was revealed that yeah maybe she wanted to have kids some day, but believe me I'm not trying to push that as any kind of ideal, or something that 'makes a relationship whole', or any crap like that. It's a very personal decision and there is no right or wrong answer. This is just where I think these two characters are in this story at this time. (I may be a _little,_ biased because I have a little Dark-spawn at home, but that's beside the point.)
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke gets a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, the flashback is Luke and Mara picking up where we left off at the end of chapter 15 (post heat, after he goes back to the school for the day and then he returns that evening to find her in the backyard and she drags him back inside the kitchen to avoid being overheard by the neighbours... and she does not seem pleased).
> 
> PS: not that it matters but for whatever reason, in my head canon, Mara is 5'7" (rather than her usual 5'3"), but feel free to continue with whatever height you are currently head-canoning.

Luke is in his study, sipping from his mug, reading emails - from staff, from parents - when a phone starts ringing. His hand falls to his pocket but realizes it isn’t his cell. He fumbles for his keys and using the smallest one opens the bottom drawer of his desk. Inside a cell phone - plugged in, with the cord running out the back - hums and blinks at him. 

His mind spins. Leia rarely needed to call him on his burner phone - if it’s her it must be something serious. He’s not sure if Ben has this number - if Ben was calling him then it’s definitely an emergency. The only other person that had the number - besides Artoo and Threepio - was Rian’s mother; he had sent the number to her by mail so Rian could call him when he got out, but that was still weeks away. His mind is still buzzing with possibilities - mostly bad - when he hits receive. “Hello?”

“Hi... Luke?” 

“Kaydel...” His heart did _not_ just skip a beat (at least it really shouldn’t have because it had finally stopped doing that after the first handful of phone calls from her... though that was on his usual phone, where they couldn’t speak openly... and realizing that difference he suddenly feels nervous for no reason that he could admit to). And then it dawns on him that she’s calling on the _burner phone_. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I…” There was a brief pause. “There’s just been a lot of _stuff_ come up, and… I’m sorry, I just needed to _talk_ talk.” 

Luke feels relieved that she’s safe, while at the same time he tries to stop his alpha from preening because _she’s_ calling _him, she’s_ turning to _him_ for help. And then another thing occurs to him. “How did you get this number? What phone are you calling from?”

“I- I went to your sister’s house but she was out. Threepio gave me the number... and the phone. I… sorry I...” He could hear her exhale on the other end of the line.

“No, I-I’m glad you called.” He swivels his chair away from his computer. “What’s going on?” 

“Well... okay, so a couple things.” Her words tumble out of her quickly. “The first one, I was able to get an update on Rian’s sentence through Alpha Services. He-”

Luke’s alpha senses danger. “You _requested_ that? Kaydel, you _can’t_ draw attention to yourself like that.” He’s already trying to think of ways they can cover her tracks.

“No, it’s fine. I... kind of requested sentence information on... all the alpha inmates… in the province,” she admits sheepishly. He should be relieved, he should be applauding her clever misdirection; instead he’s just left with a tight feeling around his heart. “Anyway,” she continues, “if Rian can avoid any further sanctions he’ll be getting out in a few weeks.” Luke doesn’t miss the excitement that tinges her voice. 

He has to force the words out to keep the conversation going. “Yes... I heard.”

“You did?” She’s clearly surprised. “How do you hear that?” 

For a moment he considers lying to her but thought of it makes his alpha protest uncomfortably. “I visited him,” he admits.

There is a brief pause. “When?” 

He brings his hand up to rest on the bridge of his nose. “A couple of months ago.”

“ _What_? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We... didn’t have an open line of communication.” It was true (it just wasn’t the whole truth).

“How... was he?”

Luke closes his eyes so he can focus on keeping his voice even and casual. “Fine.”

“Did you tell him about me?”

Luke pulls at the scant moisture in his mouth, trying to swallow to wet his throat. “A little.”

“And..? What did he say?”

“I… we couldn’t speak openly.”

“But... did he give you _anything_?”

“He…” Lukes remembers the intensity with which Rian followed the conversation once he had deciphered Luke’s message. “...seemed interested in meeting you.” 

On the other end of the line he can hear Kaydel’s giggle; she did that sometimes when she as she was truly excited. Normally the sound made Luke smile. Normally. Luke can feel that possessiveness welling up in him again and he tries to push it down. _Breathe_. 

“So…” she continues. “This is actually one of the reasons I’m calling. To make plans.”

“Plans?”

“To meet him.”

Luke swallows again. “Well the first thing to happen is that he’ll be released into his parents’ custody, and he’ll go home. I know his handler. It will raise suspicions if Rian applies to leave his property, so-”

“That’s okay, I can go to him.”

“Well-”

“I have his address from his file...” 

_Of course she does._

“...I assume it’s the same. His parents are still listed at the farm next door.”

“Kaydel... it’s more complicated than that. We have to arrange someone to go with you.”

There is a momentary pause. “Amilyn already offered… to set it up… she has people...” 

Luke grimaces. He should have known that Amilyn may have already offered to do this. 

“...I just need to know if he actually gets out, and from then, when I should go visit.”

The last thing Luke wants is for her to try to contact Rian or his parents directly; she could get caught doing that. “Rian’s going to contact me once he’s out.”

“Oh, that’s _perfect_.” Her excitement is like a spear through his heart. 

He clears his throat. “How much lead time will you need? A month?”

“A month? No. Just a few days.”

His alpha is confused. Why is he letting this happen? “I’m sure Amilyn’s person will need longer than that.”

If Luke wasn’t quietly panicking maybe he would have noticed the small hesitation before she spoke. “Amilyn said she’s really flexible. We could probably be there the next day even.”

“Kaydel, there’s no need to rush into this. You should take your time.” The words don’t ring quite true, even to his own ears. 

“But I’ve been waiting months to see him.”

“Exactly, so a few more weeks won’t matter.” 

“I… I’d like to go as soon as possible.” Her words are a plea.

“Kaydel…” He wonders if his sound like one too.

The line is quiet for a moment, and when she speaks her voice is quieter. “Have you ever had someone who was special to you? Someone that you just couldn’t wait for?”

Of all her words, these hit Luke the deepest. 

* * *

They stood, a few steps apart, in Mara’s darkened kitchen.

“Did you enjoy it?” 

He swallowed, eye down. “Yes. For which I’m sorry. The whole point of it was to help you, not me. But I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. I spent years thinking about you, and then... here you were.” She took another step closer and still he couldn’t look at her. 

But then, suddenly, he felt her hand touch his. When he looked up, her brow was pinched and her eyes were tired and serious. He noticed her nose flaring once or twice, but it still felt like forever before she spoke. “Will you just hold me?”

And then she was moving in to his arms - and his arms were moving around her - all before he could think of anything to say. “Yeah,” he said distractedly. She wrapped her arms around him and lay her head on his shoulder. He didn’t miss the deep breath that she took at the crook of his neck and how she seemed to relax into him a little more as she exhaled. 

Luke, for his part, just tried to hold himself still; as he had said, this was for her, not him. Of course a fresh wave of her scent (mixed with burnt cannabis) was everywhere now, but he still had to resist bowing his head to breath her scent more deeply. 

The pace of her breathing slowed, and the scent coming off of her shifted into something more relaxed. He would have held her like that all night if she had wanted. 

“This is so confusing,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry.”

She took another deep breath at his collar. “I can’t go back to the school... can I?”

“No.”

She nodded against his chest.

In a romαnce novel this is where the female would cry or shiver or look to her alpha to solve all her problems, but though she had sought his scent Mara did none of these other things. “I’m going to make tea. Would you like some?” 

He would have accepted anything she offered.

“Yeah... sure.” If his reply was any longer he’s sure his voice would have cracked with how tightly wound he felt. 

She pulled away suddenly and set about making tea. Luke’s alpha did not like her sudden departure, but settled when Luke sat in a chair and watched her move around the kitchen. Luke noted where she kept the kettle and cups and tea bags. He had never been a tea drinker, but he suddenly felt himself wanting to know exactly how she liked hers.

Once they had a cup each he followed her to the living room and sat, as she did, on the flowery sofa. For a long while they watched the cars and people go by on the street. 

She kept her gaze out the window when she spoke again, her voice low. “That guy at the farm… apparently he had done that sort of thing with other girls. He stopped after that day; stopped dating even. And he wouldn’t go near me. He switched out of some of the courses he had with me. The ones he couldn’t change he traded seats so he could sit as far from me as possible.” She took a long draw of her tea. “He works at the grocery store on Fifth now. I saw him shortly after I came home to look after mom. I figured whatever his problem was he would have outgrown it, so I walked up, and when he turned and saw me… I thought he was going to have a heart attack.” She gave a soft laugh. “He jumped and tripped knocked over a bunch of produce and ran to the back of the store. He disappears every time I go in there.” She covers a slight smile with another drink of her tea. “You did something to him that day, didn’t you?” There was no accusation in her voice, just curiosity.

He hadn’t thought of it in many years, but he knew exactly was she was talking about. The power that spoke through him, commanding obedience. He had never been able to do that again; he thought maybe the boy was just scared and ran off at his suggestion, nothing special about it. He didn’t say anything, too stunned by the implication.

Mara continued on. “I was sick for a couple days... after the farm. My mom figured I had caught something from that boy. I never told her what happened. Maybe it’s good I didn’t.” She drank her tea again and Luke realized that he had just been holding his. He took a sip too; it was nice, the way she liked her tea.

She talked about university and teachers college. She talked about her ex-husband and the divorce and coming home and her mom dying. She had started smoking more after that, but had been cutting back - at least until today. 

He watched her as she talked, and spoke only after she turned to him and asked, “So how did you get here?” He talked about Yavingard, and Biggs, and Palpatine. He talked about the research study, and university and teachers college; Mara was a year younger and they almost ended up at the same one. He told her how he got Palpatine’s job and he talked about the school, and the kids, and his sister and nephew.

They talked long past when the light outside grew dim and the street lights came on and when they got hungry they switched back to the kitchen and Mara popped two of the frozen dinners in the oven. Luke told her about how he and Leia would try to help the omegas they found; try to help them stay hidden, and why that was important. She talked about the curriculum she had planned out for the different classes.

And when they went back to the living room, with two more cups of tea, Mara sat closer than she had before. Finally he got up the courage to ask how she was… after everything… after waking up to an empty house. He apologised again for that before she could answer him. She shrugged and looked out the window. “I don’t know. I think I need a little time, but… it’s not terrible... just different.” She looked back at him and the corners of her mouth were turned up just a bit. Later, when one of them yawned and it was obviously getting late, she asked him, “Will you stay with me tonight?”

 _I would stay with you until the end of time._ “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“It’s what I want tonight.”

“Okay.”

And so he did.

And so Luke started seeing Mara on the weekends. He would finish up his work on Friday afternoons, and after checking in with the staff member on night duty he’d steal away in his car to the other side of town (it meant that Luke would miss out on movie night, but the kids could run it themselves). He’d check in at the motel, leaving his clothes for Monday in the room. Then he’d get into Mara’s waiting car and she’d drive them back to her place. She’d park in the garage and they’d wait for the door to close before getting out. They’d scent each other - Luke had enjoyed teaching her about scenting - and hold each other. At first Mara did all the cooking because Luke was hopeless at it, but he paid attention to how she did things and started to pick it up. Mara would tell Luke about her latest project around the house (it started small, but soon she was repainting whole rooms), and Luke would tell her about what had been happening at the school. 

And in the nights it was like they started over, like her heat had never happened and they were discovering each other from the beginning. And to Luke every moment of it was like magic. One night as he held her, he asked if he was making her happy, if this is what she wanted. He nudged her with her hips to make the point that his body couldn’t.

She turned over so that she could look at him. “I just got out of ten years of marriage. This is a thousand time better.”

He played with a lock of her hair. “Maybe you just don’t know what else your missing.”

She gently but firmly held his jaw and turned his face to look at him. “ _I_ will be the one to tell you when I’m not happy with this.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“ _Always looking to the future, to the horizon. Never your mind on where you are_.” After learning about his interest in Jedi philosophy she had borrowed some of his books; she was a quick study. 

“You’re paraphrasing,” he countered, returning to the task of tracing her locks.

She shrugged and gave him a wry smile. “Same timeless wisdom.” And when he didn’t say anything she interrupted his study of her hair with a kiss.

One morning, in the early days, she had gone out back to smoke while he was showering. When he found her on the porch she offered to share the joint. 

“I, ah- need to take a pass. If the kids found out they’d never let me live it down, but it could also cause other… legal entanglements.” 

Luke thought the ‘o’ that her mouth dropped into was the cutest thing; it was rare to catch Mara speechless. “Right,” she said, and she quickly put it out. After that she stopped smoking on the weekends, and eventually he stopped noticing its tell-tail scent most of the time when he visited.

And so things went. On either Sunday evening or Monday morning she would drive him back to the motel and say goodbye. He would shower again to - regrettably - remove her scent and he’d dress in the clean set of clothes that he had left for himself. He’d drop his old ones off at the dry cleaners, often picking up the ones from the week before.

After a few weeks the motel manager took pity of his ‘women troubles’ and started giving Luke a discounted rate. If the motel manager thought that he was cheating on his wife, so be it; Luke would tolerate anything if it helped avoid more questions.

For many weeks everything went as intended. And then one evening Luke was in his private office when a loud knock sounded at his front door… and a moment later said door slammed inward. “Luke!” It was Ben. Luke stood and moved towards his quarters’ central room which acted as living space, kitchenette and entrance way. Ben stood fuming a few steps inside the door, turning when Luke appeared. “What the _fuck_?”

“Hey, watch the language,” He was used to Ben’s outbursts.

“You’re _dating_ that red-headed _bitch_?”

And in an instant Luke’s calm fractured. His alpha snarled and snapped and strained and suddenly he was standing toe to toe with his nephew, not feeling phased by how much taller than he Ben had become in the last few years. “You will _not_ call her that.”

“ _She_ abandoned us!”

“That’s _not_ true.” Luke pushed down on his alpha; he needed to be able to think his way through this.

“She spent _one day_ with us and turned her ass and ran.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And now you’re shacking up with her?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“So it’s _true_.” Ben turned, shoulders heaving as he breathed. “Half the _school_ knows.”

 _Great_. “So what if it’s true?”

“I thought you were on _our_ side.”

“I _am_ on your side.”

“You are such a fucking sell out. So what? She’s too good to be around the rest of us, but she’ll take _you_?”

Luke could have told Ben the truth that day, but there was a good reason not to: Ben was terrible with secrets. He wore all his feelings openly. And there was no universe where Luke would compromise Mara’s safety. 

Or at least Luke wished that had been his reason for not telling Ben. It would have been a good reason, a noble reason. But really at the time he was just trying to keep himself from punching his nephew. “I think you need to leave.”

“Great, just kick me out. I guess I should be _thankful_ for you not giving me detention too right?” 

Luke normally didn’t but today he was tempted to make an exception. “You want to try me?”

“ _Fuck_ you,” Ben shot back, but at least with that Ben left. 

It was the first thing Luke told Mara about that weekend, as they were driving away from the motel.

“If the kids at the school know, then some people in town must know too.” He said as he looked suspiciously out the window. “I could start taking cabs to your place.”

She shrugged. “And then my neighbours would see you get out of the cab. I don’t think it really matters, and this way is cheaper.” Luke was already stretching his usual income covering the extra costs of the motel, but he didn’t care about that.

“What if someone tries something?” 

“What? Are you worried that my ninety year old neighbour is going to come after me for having a boyfriend.”

“I’m an alpha.” 

She shrugged. “Like you said, half the town probably thinks you’re a beta.”

“I’m serious.”

“Well maybe you’re right, she can move pretty fast with that cane of hers.”

“Mara…”

“Yes Mr. Overprotective Alpha?” She took her eyes off the road a moment to look at him.

Even joking, it gave him goosebumps when she called him that. “Please tell me that you’ll be careful.”

“Of course.” And he knew she was both teasing and serious at the same time. 

The New Year came and went. Luke couldn’t visit Mara as much as he wanted. It was _that_ winter that a student died. The whole thing was a mess. Luke needed to be at the school for the other students, for Ben. Luke had had to write several reports and attend extra school-board meetings because of it. There had been signs that things weren’t going well for the student, but no one could have predicted what had happened. Still, it troubled Luke deeply. Mara could always tell when he was brooding - from his scent or otherwise - and she did her best to help him through it.

It wasn’t until the start of March Break that Luke had the chance to tell Leia about Mara. They sat in Luke’s study while Artoo and Ben packed the car. Leia was quietly beaming by the time Luke finished. “I should have figured something more was going on. Is this very serious?”

He nodded. “Which is why I had to tell you.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I need you to find me a replacement.”

Now both eyebrows went up. “You’re going to quit?”

“Not until school’s over.” He didn’t want to leave the students part way through the year, especially given the year they had had. That it was Ben’s final year helped to solidify his decision. “If she says yes.”

“You haven’t discussed this with her?”

“Not exactly yet.”

“Sooo…?”

“So if she says yes, I’ll finish the year, take an extended vacation over the summer, go off my meds, and... see what happens.” 

Leia didn’t ask for details. There were certain things that were better left unsaid. “When are you going to ask her?”

Luke smiled “Soon.” He had never thought that this would ever be a part of his life. “Ben doesn’t know. You can’t tell him until it’s over.”

She nodded at this. “He’s not going to thank you for that… but I understand. What will you do after?”

“I have no idea. Maybe just stay in Eisley. I’d even keep working if the government would let me, but that’s a long shot. So, we need to start thinking about a replacement.” He didn’t want things to go back to the way they were.

“I’ll work on it.” 

The next time he saw Mara, he didn’t ask her - he was too nervous and the end of school was still months away - but he couldn’t hide the ridiculous grin it put on his face. 

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’m... just happy to see you.”

She smiled back at him conspiratorially. “Okay...” She didn’t buy it for a moment, but she didn’t push him either. 

He pulled her close and breathed her scent deeply; still no hint of a heat. It had been just over six months since the first - and last - one. Research on MC-alphas in the states suggested that his scent should be too weak - or perhaps just too different - to trigger a heat. They had talked about trying to induce one, but there were too many unknowns, and it would be hard for Luke to take the time away from the school. They’d agreed it would probably be simpler if things stayed as they were for now. Luke had even started showering _before_ going over to Mara’s, to get rid of any pheromones lingered on him from the school.

For the moment they were content with everything exactly as it was. 

* * *

Kaydel’s voice comes over the phone again. “Luke..? Are you there?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, “I had someone once.”

Maybe she could hear the strain in his voice; maybe she couldn’t. “So… maybe you know why I don’t want to wait any longer.”

He had no more arguments, so instead he changed the subject. “There was another thing you wanted to tell me about, what was it?”

He could hear her inhale sharply and then let it out in a big huff. “Okay, so this _thing_ happened to me the other day, and I don’t know what it was. See… the day before I’d been smelling some pheromone samples, and-”

She was hiding something; his alpha could hear it in her voice and did not like it. He interrupts without thinking. “Statura doesn’t work with pheromones. Where did you get them from?” He knew that such things were under tight lock and key.

“Ah… you see…”

“Kaydel…” His alpha was on edge and it was coming out in the tone of his voice.

“Ackbar found out.”

Ackbar was an ally, not a threat, but his alpha did _not_ like things happening without him knowing about it. “How did _that_ happen?”

“Ah.. it’s… a long story. But you know he’s actually been really helpful.”

“Kaydel you need to take this seriously.”

“I _am_ taking this seriously, _thank you_ very much.”

Luke sighs inwardly. _Pups_. 

“Anyway, I was smelling some pheromone samples and then the next day Lusica and I were out clubbing-”

“You were out _clubbing_?” he interrupts, his alpha on full alert.

The pitch of her voice went up. “Yes, as a matter of fact. _I_ was out _clubbing_.”

“Were you _drinking_?” Being out at night in the city was one thing, but at the thought of her on the town drunk...

“ _Yes_ I had a couple of drinks, okay-”

Her answers were only making his alpha more vocal. “Do you do this _often_?”

“Yeah, actually, I do, because I enjoy it. Because it gives me a chance to stop worrying about all this other _shit_ going on in my life.”

“Kaydel, you _can’t_ be that _careless_.”

“Or what?”

“Something could happen to you.”

“I am aware of that, thanks.”

“ _This is not a game._ ” His voice is too loud, and he hears it only after the words have come out of his mouth. 

There’s a pause.

“You know what? ... Forget it. … Just forget it. I will just figure this out on my own.”

“Kaydel, I’m s-” 

“ _Don’t_ placate me. Here, _this_ is what I need: when Rian gets out, let me know and I will be at his parents’ house, mid afternoon, three days later.”

“Kaydel…”

“Three days.”

“Kaydel…”

“Good-bye Luke.” And the phone beeps to signal that she’s hung up. 

It’s a long moment before Luke brings the phone down from his ear. He closes his eyes briefly, taking a slightly larger than usual breath, before plugging the phone back in and placing it back in the drawer. The only other things in the drawer are a very thin employee file, marked ‘M.J.’, and a book titled _Alpha Prime_. He closes the drawer and locks them all away.

He tries to go back to his emails, but focusing on the content is impossible. 

He turns off his computer, picks up his mug and realizes that his tea has long gone cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and about Mara giving up pot for Luke, I'm really _not_ trying to make any moral statement on cannabis. I really don't care what substances people put into their bodies as long as they do so somewhat responsibly. This just stems from Luke being under heavier scrutiny as an alpha, and is reflective of Mara not wanting to jeopardize his well-being/safety (totally not original; we've seen this theme before in SH).
> 
> PS: work is really busy so the next chapter may take a little longer (it may be on time just because I think it's going to be shorter than most, but I'm not sure).
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise?

Ziff sits in his usual seat, on his usual bench, in the yard. 

With quick practiced strokes he adds some under-boob shading to the two perfect tits before him. He traces their inside edge with his eraser to give the illusion of reflected light; he’s going for a damp and sweaty kind of look. The female is in a wide, lock-kneed stance, one arm hoisting up a crossbow. Below the waist she’s pretty standard eye candy, all endless legs and almost not there short shorts, but the bandolier across her otherwise naked torso gives her a guerrilla warfare flare. She’s definitely at the fiery end of the omega spectrum. Ziff would have died of boredom long ago if all he drew was meek, naked, heat-struck omegas with dicks in their cunts, and his customers seemed to appreciate the diversity in his work. For all that Redguard was a hell hole, it was nice to have an audience.

He angles the sketch to the alpha sitting next to him. “What do you think?”

But said alpha is not paying attention. Rather he’s just staring off across the yard.

“ _Boba._ ”

Boba jolts himself from his lassitude and looks at the sketch. For a moment Ziff actually thinks he might say something, but then Boba just shrugs and turns back to watching nothing.

Momentarily Ziff has the urge to slap him upside the head but he tells himself he can’t because he knows why Boba is acting this way. His dad had been transferred the day before and he wasn’t taking it well, especially in the wake of the incident. Ziff basically had to haul him around to make sure no one tried to jump him while he wasn’t paying attention (some of the alphas on the block were real dicks, willing to kick someone when they were down, unwilling to put aside the instinct to dominate). Of course, babysitting a despondent Boba wouldn’t have been so bad, except that Rian wasn’t here to help.

Which reminds him, he needs to find out what research study Rian did and how to get into it. 

He shakes his head. Of all the alphas to hit a rut, he probably would have chosen Rian last. Not that he would ever say this, but Rian was the most un-alpha alpha that Ziff had ever met. Easy going, quiet, willing to be second. Of course that had also made Rian the best cellmate Ziff had ever had; the last few years at Yavingard had been much more enjoyable for Ziff because of it. It still felt odd not having the little guy following him around all the time (though having the cell to himself for once _was_ nice). 

For all that Ziff would be happy for Rian to be his cellmate until the end of his sentence, he still felt bad for all the sanction bullshit that Rian had gone through over the past couple of years. The guards had already started harassing him again - much earlier than usual, which wasn’t a good sign. At least in solitary he might get a bit of a break; the worst the guards could do there was feed him poorly, and Rian probably wasn’t in any state to care. 

Ziff had never had to deal with being harassed with sanctions; he was still in the middle of his original sentence. Apparently if an alpha is found with stacks of sketches of their single female neighbour in compromising positions, it’s considered strong enough evidence to be charged with conspiracy to commit sexual assault which, for an alpha, comes with a dangerous offender charge and automatic jail time. 

The charges and the trial had been absolute bullshit. So... Ziff had developed a bit of a thing for the courgarish female banker that lived next to him when he got out of Yavingard. So... he took note of her as she walked her dog every day, and as she got in and out of her vehicle going to and from work. So... she became a regular figure in Ziff’s sketches which were strewn around his house. Ziff would _never_ have _done_ anything to her, but swearing that up and down didn’t seem to count for anything. Ziff’s public defender was an idiot and couldn’t come up with a decent counter witness to the prosecution’s psychological expert who, after examining Ziff’s art, testified that the sketches were clearly an expression Ziff’s sexual fantasies and that the progression of the content of the images suggested a high chance of him moving on to assaulting his neighbour. It was the bullshittiest bullshit on the planet. 

The ironic part was that after he came to Redguard no one gave two fucks what he drew. The thing that had got him locked up was now his livelihood. He wonders if his art will become a problem again when his sentence starts coming to an end, but for now it affords him a comfortable existence (not to mention feeds his hunger for recognition, but don’t tell Ziff that).

The buzzer rings and very slowly the occupants of the yard start migrating to the doors. The caf would be open now, but there was no rush to go in and line up. Going to the caf early meant leaving the low pheromone environment of the yard. Of course some alphas choose to go in right away anyway, but others stayed on the yard a late as possible. Most were somewhere in between, and in that way Redguard’s alphas usually avoided killing each in the cafeteria line up. 

Ziff shades in the omega’s hair a little more; it hangs around her head like a shaggy halo. A few more lines and Ziff declares his sketch complete. He packs his papers and pencils into his bag and prods Boba into following him inside. 

The stench of the prison hits him in that familiar, unnatural way as they cross the threshold. It only takes a couple quick turns and they arrive at the cafeteria. 

Ziff eyes the food line - which is almost non-existent - and he congratulates himself for choosening such a perfect moment to arrive... at least until he sees Pru and Grummgar headed towards the queue from the other direction. If Ziff keeps walking at the same pace he will beat them, but only just. Ziff might be pretty awesome and respected, but there were some alphas who didn’t quite see things that way *coughcoughPru*, and some who weren’t worth crossing *coughcoughGrummgar*. 

The start of the queue isn’t far now and rather than invite trouble he slows his pace - a move that should allow Pru and Grummgar to arrive first - when a pair of footsteps come up behind him and their owner breezes past. Even from behind Ziff recognises the alpha instantly. It’s a figure he knows well. Very well; from the dirty blonde hair that curls slightly where it’s longest, to the forearms that are larger than one would expect on such a lithe build. 

And Ziff cringes as the figure cuts right in front of Pru just as the dwarf is about to enter the queue.

Pru’s face reddens. “Runt! What - the - fuc-”

And in that moment, Rian - because of course the alpha is Rian - turns to the dwarf and with the most annoyed and exasperated of tones cuts him off. “Pru, shut the fuck up, no one cares.” And then Rian _turns his back_ on the dwarf and grabs a tray. 

Ziff holds his breath. This is it, he thinks. This is going to be the moment when his friend is ended right in front of him. But if there was tension in the room it dissolves when the giant alpha next to Pru throws his head back and just laughs, causing Pru just to glare up at him. Both distracted, Ziff cuts in and grabs a tray too, Boba following after. 

Ziff catches up to the-alpha-he-thought-he-knew at the end of the line. “Hey Rian.”

When Rian looks back at him his eyes hold a bridled challenge. “Hey,” he says after a moment, and then he turns back to the food line. That’s it; he just notes Ziff’s presence, turns and nothing more. 

And that’s when it really hits Ziff. Rian’s... confident. He occupies the space around him. He even seems fucking taller, though it’s probably just his posture. And, fuck, now that Ziff isn’t holding his breath he can smell the remnants of Rian’s rut. Perhaps for the first time that Ziff has witnessed Rian’s presence says _alpha_. 

And then it’s Rian’s turn in line. He leans in a little as he catches Plutt’s eye, and the intensity in his whole body ratchets up a notch. “ _Give me a full scoop of everything,_ ” he intones, and the reverberations of the words make Ziff blink. A moment later Plutt is plating food so fast it’s like he has extra arms and once his tray is full, Rian moves on - no ‘thank you’ or nod - to the dessert section. “ _I’ll take two of those,_ ” he says and the _fucking beta behind the counter puts two cupcakes on his tray. What_ _the_ _fuck?_ No one _ever_ gets two desserts. And then Rian’s gone, halfway back to their table.

“What the fuck?” Ziff mutters as Plutt plates his food.

“Move along, inmate,” comes Plutt’s voice, more hollow than usual. “Move along.”

Ziff shifts his tray to get dessert and follows quickly, only peripherally aware that Boba is still somewhere behind him.

When Ziff gets to their table Rian is sitting in his usual seat, but more exactly, Rian is _occupying_ his seat and a good bit of space around him. His elbows are on the table and he’s consuming his food with purpose. Fuck, he’s already halfway through his tray. 

Ziff sits down across from him, perhaps not as casually as he normally would. “You hungry man?” he says, eyeing Rian’s plate.

“Mm, starving,” Rian replies, speaking around the food in his mouth. 

Ziff half-heartedly starts in on his meal. “You feeling okay?”

Rian glances up at him, almost annoyed, “Yeah. Why?”

“No reason.” 

Boba joins them, sitting next to Ziff.

Rian gulps his carton of milk in one go. “Hey, let me see your folder,” he nods at Ziff’s bag.

 _Is it just me or was that not a question?_ Ziff thinks, but he’s already passing the requested item over. 

Rian removes Ziff’s folder of completed sketches and starts flipping through them as he eats. “Sorry about your dad Boba.”

_How did he even hear about that?_

“Thanks.” Boba nods his head without really looking up from his food.

Rian picks out several sketches, packs up the rest and passes Ziff’s bag back across the table, followed by the two cupcakes. “I’ll pay you the rest later.” Rian stands and almost as an afterthought adds, “Hey, can you get my tray?”

 _What?_ Ziff looks up at the being that was _supposed_ to be his cellmate. Rian _never_ asks someone else to clear his tray. Especially _Ziff_.

“Here, I’ll take it,” Boba volunteers.

Rian slides the tray to Boba and grabs the sketches.

Ziff just gapes; he and Boba had barely even started their meals. “Rian, where the fuck are you going?”

And Rian just looks at him as if the answer is obvious. “I gotta get the fuck out of here.” And as if that was a sufficient explanation walks off, but not towards the exit. Instead he’s going the other way, to the back of the caf.

Ziff watches, dumbstruck, and as Rian nears his target, it dawns on Ziff where he’s going. _Oh fuck, he’s going to talk to Sidon._ Sidon, the alpha who is in charge of job assignment. Sidon, who has no interest in talking to half the alphas on the block. Sidon, who has a reputation for being easily pissed off.

To Ziff, watching Rian step closer to the back corner table is like watching an impending train wreck. Only when Rian gets there, still with that _presence_ around him, he catches Sidon’s eye and starts speaking to the other alpha. Ziff thinks for the second time that night that his cellmate has made a serious error, but a few moments later Sidon gestures for Rian _to join him at his table_. Rian talks for a time, with Sidon and his right hand man, Quiggold; at first they just seem to be listening but then as Rian talks longer they seem to be nodding. Rian passes something to Sidon and when he stands so does the other alpha. They give each other a _fucking forearm handshake_ , and then Rian is walking away, heading out the cafeteria door, no longer holding the porn sketches. 

When he’s out of view, Ziff - stunned - turns to Boba. “What the _fuck_ just happened?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Boba replies calmly. “His alpha is with him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There has been... an awakening?
> 
> * * *
> 
> Yeah, so, surprise. I've had a very small number of non-Rian/Kaydel/Luke chapters planned for a long time.  
> I hope that I'm not breaking the mold too badly.  
> There are certain moments that are just more interesting when written from the outside perspective.  
> We will be back with our regular characters next chapter.  
> (Was totally thinking of you, Amy, when I wrote this; hope you liked it.)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Head-canon notes: Who does Ziff draw for himself? The needle exchange nurse from chapter 6. He's only ever seen her arms and torso (and hears her voice) through the needle exchange window. He draws her that way too, always with her face/head obscured, regardless of what the rest of her is doing.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _That place is a puzzle. You can get out, but you need to find the way._ " - Luke, Chapter 15.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning (mild-medium)** \- see end notes.

Rian pushes the mop back and forth across the floor. The motion is second nature to him. But unlike last week, he’s not mopping around a toilet, or the sinks, or the showers. He’s not in the washrooms at all. He’s in the one of the restricted hallways, where the only unsupervised alphas are the occasional ones on cleaning duty. 

A few days have passed since he was released from solitary, and as each one went by he had felt more and more like his usual self. And yet he still feels different. 

His memories from his rut are both foggy and crystal clear. It was like her pheromones had dampened certain parts of his brain while activating others. He barely remembers dragging the thin mattress from the bunk to the center of the cell, but he must have because that’s where he spent most of his time. Despite his clouded thoughts he had meticulously arranged his _collection_ all around him, creating orbits of _her_. He had examined each image in turn, as if seeing each one for the first time. Fantasies had unfolded before him; of her leading him on a chase, of him fighting for her, of her choosing him. That he didn’t even know her name didn’t seem to matter at the time. She was the omega to his alpha.

And at times her voice spoke to him; not with sweet nothings or groans or begging. _Breathe_ , her voice had whispered to him. It was like one of Skywalker’s meditation lessons - trying to emulate the Jedi masters of the past - and yet it was nothing like that, for with _her_ instruction Rian had slipped effortlessly into a state of just existing and breathing and being - something he had never achieved before despite trying. 

Time ceased to hold any meaning. He could not count the number of times he brought himself to orgasm as he stared at her, his knot swelling a little each time. Between he would settle and for a time he would lie sated and hold the image of her close to him, only for his hunger for her to rekindle. 

For all that Ziff had wished him ‘fun’ during his rut, for most alphas a solitary rut was anything but. Pornigraphic images were a poor substitute for a real companion. Rian should have been miserable, frustrated, but really every moment just felt like it was bringing him closer to her. 

And as his mind started to clear, he started to see the world differently. He _knew_ things. Like how he just _knew_ he could demand more food at the caf on that first day when he was starving. How he _knew_ what to say to Sidon to change his work assignment. How he _knew_ that there was a way out of Redguard; he couldn’t see it exactly, just the shape of it, but it was there, solid and clear. A way out. A way to _her_.

And so here he is, mopping floors in the restricted part of the alpha wing. That he’s mopped the same hall twice now is something he senses will go unnoticed.

Rian listens attentively, and finally he hears a set of footsteps approaching through the corridor. When the guard comes around the corner, he recognises Wuher, one of the older guards. 

_Breathe…,_ a soft voice tells him and instantly he finds himself falling into the present.

Rian works towards the door that he knows the guard is approaching. He looks up just as the guard pulls out his keys. “ _Sir,_ ” he says, and the beta pauses for a long moment before straightening and looking at him.

* * *

A short time later, Rian sits in the caf eating his lunch, trying to savour his half sized meal. He had not _asked_ for extra food since that first day out which was probably good because Plutt had seemed wary of him ever since. Half portions would have to do.

At their table he and Boba listen to Ziff going on about the new pencils the commissary was going to get. Rian nods politely at all the right times, but his attention is elsewhere. “I’m telling you man, this is going to usher in a whole new era of quality porn.”

Rian grunts, but in truth he’s distracted by the small squad of guards - led by Phasma - that has just taken up position at the doors. The COs with her are all known for causing problems for alphas; DJ is among them. They stand imposingly, scanning the room.

Rian rakes his fingers through his hair, checking for the two cigarettes he had tucked behind his ear - they are two of his last at this point. He stares at the rest of his food but he is suddenly not hungry. Rian stands and nods to his companions. “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll see you around.”

“Ah- ooookaay. See ya, man.” Rian hears the mild confusion in Ziff’s voice, but pays it no heed.

Around him most of the alphas are still eating; very few have left their tables. Rian hands in his tray as he has on a thousand other days.

 _Breathe_...

The din of the room drops away. He walks towards the doors. On the day after his rut he had walked with his head held high, shoulders back, but today his eyes are down, and shoulders slumped forwards a little. Like his usual self. Quiet and easy-going. He pulls the two cigarettes from behind his ear and holds them lightly in his hand.

As he approaches Rian does not make eye contact - his head down is down like he’s lost in thought - but he still notes how Phasma nods at DJ. 

_Breathe_...

He crosses the door’s threshold, passing between the guards. He sees the foot that DJ sticks out at the last moment...

...and trips. 

His momentum carries him forward as DJ’s foot holds his back. He slams flat out onto the tile, barely getting his hands up to protect his face. His cigarettes go skittering across the floor and a small yelp escapes him. An expectant hush falls over the guards, but not another peep passes Rian’s lips. 

A beat passes before Rian starts to scramble to his feet, his posture very small, like he wants to disappear. Two of the guards block his escape down the hall.

DJ moves in to stand close to him. “Oh Rianne, I think you dropped something.” 

Rian refuses to meet his gaze, but in avoiding DJ’s he catches Phasma’s. Her eyes are hungry. He flinches (though, despite that, his scent remains neutral). 

Phasma’s head flicks up in interest. “Lock the doors,” she murmurs and the guards closest to her move to comply. The doors shut with a clank, cutting them off from the alphas inside.

DJ eyes the cigarettes lying on the floor and gestures with his chin. “Go on Rianne, go pick them up.” 

The cigarettes are a good six feet away, on opposite sides of the hall. The two guards blocking the exit move back to make way for him.

Rian - small, unsure Rian - turns towards where the cigarettes lay... and trips again on DJ’s foot.

His second fall is no less painful than the first, his yelp a little louder. He’s knows all the guards are watching him but it’s Phasma’s eyes that he feels the most, like lasers boring onto him. He moves to get up again, but stops when a boot comes to rest on his backside.

“Oh Rianne, don’t bother getting up.” DJ’s voice is as smooth as an oil spill. “You can crawl the rest of the way. You know how to do that, right dog?” Some of the guards chuckle under their breath.

Rian gets to his hands and knees, and crawls towards the first cigarette. He flinches each time he puts weight on his left hand. Phasma is smiling, gloating. He grabs the first cigarettes, and moves to stand.

“Woah, Rianne, who said you could get up.”

Defiance flares in Rian - in his scent and in his eyes - as he stares back up at DJ. “My name is _Rian_.”

The smile drops from Phasma’s face and suddenly she’s crossed the floor. Her foot slams into Rian’s ribs and this times his yelp is higher pitched. One of the guards inhales in surprise. Malice drips from Phasma’s voice. “No one asked you to speak, dog.” 

Rian scrambles a step away from her, but this only seems to incite her. 

“That’s the wrong way, runt,” she says, and to accentuate her point she lands another blow to his ribs. 

A stifled grunt comes out of Rian, but still he moves away. 

“DOG!” She kicks him again.

Rian keeps moving away, and the other guards keep moving back to give him room.

This time she kicks him again without warning. “What is _wrong_ with you, you _filthy animal_?” And she kicks him one last time - hard - and there is an audible crunch. The momentum rolls him onto his back.

 _Breathe…_ It’s hard to because his chest hurts everytime he does, but he tries. 

Rian - pain painted across his face - looks up at Phasma, towering over him. But then he hears it; a sound like low rolling thunder. He can see the moment that Phasma hears it too, when her expression changes from savage to uncertain. The sound becomes louder and she looks down the hall.

“Hey Phasma,” Rian says breathlessly. When her eyes dart back to him he simply glances up over her shoulder. She turns to follow his gaze and freezes at the sight of the security camera staring down at her. For a moment Rian swears he can smell her fear. 

And it’s at that moment that the deep continuous rumble resolves into heavily booted footsteps, and a squad of COs bursts into the hall. “ON THE FLOOR!” comes the militaristic order. The newcomers all brandish suppression rifles, and Phasma’s crooneys drop to the ground. “PHASMA, STEP AWAY FROM THE INMATE!”

* * *

Rian wakes again in the medical bay. The pain medication makes him groggy. He tries not to move because even shifting on the stretcher sends pain shooting up the side of his chest. He has several cracked ribs and at first even breathing too deeply is agony.

The nurses check on him at regular intervals. The doctor, an older woman with straight salt and pepper hair, examines him twice a day. On his x-ray the alignment of the ribs looked fine - there was no evidence that his lung had been punctured - so without any intervention his ribs should heal the old fashioned way: painfully with time.

He was cuffed to the stretcher, of course, but with only a single cuff at the wrist. Maybe it was because he often said things like ‘please’ and ‘thank-you’, or maybe it was that he called most of the nurses ‘ma’am’. Then again, maybe it was because for the first day or so he couldn’t even sit at the side of the bed to pee, and the nurses had to help him just to use a urinal. If you couldn’t even take a piss by yourself you probably weren’t much of a threat.

The nurses are actually kind of nice to him. They even let him talk on the portable phone with his mom at one point. Of course, most of the conversation was him saying, ‘I’m fine mom, yeah I’m fine. I’ll be fine. No I don’t think they’ll let me have a visitor,’ but it was still nice to talk to her.

The nurses are also chatty, and between what they say to him and what he hears them saying to each other, it sounds like Phasma and the other COs are currently on suspension. Rian smiles when he hears that. Maybe now he could complete his sentence in peace and go home. _Finally_. And then… he feels nervous when he thinks of what happens then, when he thinks of the research girl and the survey she sent him. It was probably good that he was doped up, or he’d probably burst out of his skin from the anticipation.

His stretcher is close to the main nursing station so he also notices how each day a pairs of guards comes by and enquires about him. The doctor always tells them ‘not yet,’ and waves them off. 

It was hard to keep track of time. Several days pass before he can move himself in and out of his stretcher without much trouble. One afternoon the doctor tells him that the warden has asked to see him.

 _Shit._ “Do you know why?” He only has a few weeks left on his sentence. If the warden slaps him with a sanction it would be months again. He didn’t think they could pin him with a legitimate sanction, but he’s been served bullshit sanctions before.

She shrugs quite genuinely. “No, but you’re well enough to see him.” Which is how, sometime later, Rian finds himself being lead out of the medical ward by two guards, cuffed at the ankles and wrists. 

He’s escorted through a part of the prison that he’s never been in before, an administrative wing, it seems, by the titles written on the wooden doors. By the freshness of the air, it smells like alphas are rarely - if ever - brought here.

The door titled ‘Warden’ leads to a large room; the all wood interior feels like it’s straight out of the 1950’s. Several men and women work away on computers; he can feel their eyes flick to him as he passes. At the far end the guards knock on another door and a deep voice calls from inside. “Come.” They enter and the guards stand to either side of him. 

Gerrera sits at a large wood desk. He glances at them briefly and proceeds to ignore them while he continues to work on whatever paperwork he has before him. Finally done, he sets it aside. He interlaces his fingers before him on the desk and stares at Rian for a long time with a look that gives away nothing. 

Rian, for his part, tries to return the large man’s gaze evenly, but on the inside he feels disadvantaged. This man could very easily - if unfairly - extend his sentence. Maybe Rian could have convinced him otherwise with his new found _ability_ for making suggestions, except that his head is still foggy from the pain medication and he can’t quite focus the right way.

Finally Gerrera breaks his gaze, turns and grabs a new folder of paperwork, setting it in front of him. “You are excused gentlemen,” and it takes Rian a moment to realize that he means just the guards.

The guards look at each other, confused. “Sir?” 

“What?” he snaps at the one who spoke. “You think I can’t handle a chained pup?”

If Gerrera’s slur was supposed to sting, Rian doesn’t feel it. He’s been called much worse and, really, Gerrera was right; he was in no condition to start trouble. Still it’s reluctantly that the guards release his arms; they close the door behind them as they leave. 

But being alone with Gerrera makes Rian feel no better. Without any witnesses it would be even easier for the warden to make up a reason to give Rian a sanction. If Rian had had warning about the meeting he could have skipped his pain medication, but there was nothing that he could do now but wait for the warden to make a move.

The warden surprises him by turning and flicking on the radio sitting behind him - the national news it sounded like - the volume set low but clearly audible. Then he opens the folder before him, and on the first page Rian sees a photograph of himself; his prison file. He sees that most of it is filled with pink carbon copy sheets of what must be his sanction paperwork. 

Gerrera starts turning the pages; when he speaks his voice is deep. “You know it’s interesting. Ever since I got here I’ve been telling the guards that I want all the security cameras on all of the time, but they kept coming back to me with stories that this camera was broken, or that camera was broken, or that the system fried a circuit. All kinds of excuses as to why less than half of the cameras work at any given time. However on the day of your _accident_ it seems that most of the cameras were working in the alpha wing.” He looked up at Rian through his eyebrows for a moment. “Though not the ones outside of the security office.” 

Rian just stands there. _Shit_. 

He expects the warden to push him on this matter, but when he doesn’t say anything Gerrera changes the subject. “I see you applied to work in the learning center when you first arrived.”

The comment catches Rian off guard. He hadn’t thought about that in years. He had applied to tutor other inmates who were working on their high school equivalent. It would have been a _much_ nicer job than scrubbing showers. Of course he was declined. None of the alphas ever bothered with the program - they would have no use for it after getting out - and the prison wasn’t about to have an alpha mixing with the beta inmate population. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Hmmm. I’m lead to believe you might have been good at it. Too bad you’ll never get the chance to.”

Rian isn’t sure how he’s supposed to take that. “Sir?”

The beta looked up at him. “You’re going home Rian. Tomorrow, if you want.”

There was no way he just said that; Rian still has time on his sentence. “Sir?”

“But first, I need you to sign these.” He pulls out another folder and passes a small stack of stapled documents to Rian. 

Rian tries to hide his wince as he takes the papers. He starts reading the top document. “This is... a legal release.” He skims down the paragraphs. “It says that I’m not going to press charges against Phasma.” (Her first name was _Gwen_?) He flips through the other documents. “...or the other guards.” He was quiet for a moment. “You’re buying me out.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a quiet fact. He could really get out. He could see _her_. No more sanction purgatory. And all he had to do was let Phasma and the guards off the hook. 

“That’s one way to look at it.” Rian glances up; Gerrera seems… amused? 

Yes, this was better than Gerrera throwing another sanction at him, but… “So I can walk out of here and all I have to do is let them go back to their jobs.” 

“Oh I didn’t say that.”

 _What?_ “I don’t... follow.”

“This whole things was _your_ idea, I’ll tell them. I tried to get you to drop the the charges, but that runty little alpha kept insisting he was going to sue. He has some real fancy lawyers too, and they have the security footage, and that’s going to look real bad for everyone. But after some negotiating I got you to drop the charges with only two conditions. One, that your sentence ends immediately, and, two, that all of the guards involved leave their jobs, and never work with alphas again.”

 _What?_ “What?”

Gerrera sighs and rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated that Rian was still skeptical. “Boy, what do you think is going to happen if this goes to court. The system is corrupt enough that they’ll _get off_. They’ll be gone for a while but they’ll be back within the year and _nothing_ will _change_. But if they think the case against them is strong, and they see a way to get out it, they’ll take it. And _you’re_ willing to let that happen to save your skin. And _I’m_ willing to let that happen because everyone expects a beta to look out for the betas. Meanwhile I get to hire some less offensive guards, and the Redguard becomes less of a... _hell hole_ I think is the usual term.” The warden leaned back in his chair, a smug look on his face. “So, what do you think about that?”

 _What?_ It was too good to be true; it didn’t make any sense. “Why... are you doing this?”

The large man sighs again. “Because someone asked me too. The same person that asked me to take this job. It seems you have friends in high places. Or, at least, your lady friend does.”

Rian’s jaw was probably on the floor. He _knew_. 

“So if you would _please_ sign the goddamned papers, so maybe we can get your ass home before your sentence actually runs out.”

Rian still didn’t understand how this had happened, but if Gerrera _knew_ then maybe he really was here to help him. Rian sets the papers on the end of the desk and takes the pen Gerrera offers. He moves to sign but the pen hovers over the line.

Seeing his hesitation the beta sighs (very) loudly. He flips to the back of Rian’s folder where another documents sits, fills in a few lines and signs it. “There, it’s official, you’re out of here tomorrow.” 

Rian can’t stop the smile from spreading on his face and he signs the documents without another question. 

* * *

Gerrera had given him option to go back to the infirmary overnight - it was safer than the block for an injured alpha - but Rian insisted he wanted to go back to his cell. 

The guards first bring him by the ward so he can get one last dose of his pain medication. After the walk back flies by in no time, even though Rian’s walking speed is still pretty slow. For once, Rian isn’t bothered by smell and sounds of the other alphas as he walks onto the cellblock; for once the place doesn’t fill him with apprehension. 

He’s halfway to his cell when Pru’s grating voice calls out to him. “Hey runt.” Rian looks to the dwarf who’s leaning on the wall of his cell. “Nice job kid,” he says not too loudly. Rian realizes that Pru’s aren’t the only eyes on him, that the din in the room has dropped a notch. He gives Pru a nod as the guards pull him along. 

At least one alpha is still watching Rian as he approaches his cell. Ziff stands towards the back of the cell - as regulation dictates when the door is being opened - arms crossed, shaking his head. His questions start even before the bars are closed. “What the fuck did you do, man?”

Rian’s smile is self-deprecating; he shrugs. “I got the shit kicked out of me.”

Ziff cocks his head to the side, betraying his curiosity. “Can I see?” For a brief moment Rian is reminded of showing off day-after bruises with the Knights of Ren. His smile turns a little smug as he lifts his shirt and shows off the purple and green splotches on his flank, and he’s rewarded by Ziff’s reaction. “ _Holy_ shit, man.” Rian lets his shirt fall and then stifles a grimace as Ziff bro-hugs him. “You have to tell me everything,” Ziff says as he lets Rian go.

Rian moves past him to his bunk. “It’s really not that cool.”

“You still have to tell me, man. The stories are all over the place.”

He lifts the mattress to check on his belongings below; all as he left them. He wishes he could tell Ziff everything, but he can’t risk it; not everything. 

“Is it true that there’s video? Are you going to sue her?” 

Once sitting in his bunk, Rian lets Ziff extract the details of the altercation from him. After about the fifth telling Ziff seems satisfied, and then proceeds to tell Rian about the most recent gossip in the prison (the most interesting being that Phasma’s altercation with Jango was now being re-examined). At some point Ziff pulls out his sketchbook and Rian makes comments as they talk about nothing important. Lights out seems to come too quickly. Rian thinks he could have spent all night talking to Ziff. 

* * *

Rian opens his eyes and is greeted by the grey cinderblock wall of his cell. 

His body protests as he rolls over and sits up. He has to use the ladder to get down rather than sliding the the floor.

He moves to the extra desk in the room and just sits, taking in the cell until the buzzer goes.

“No exercises this morning?” comes a muffled voice from the lower bunk.

“Yeah, I wish.” After days spent lying still on a stretcher he felt slow.

Ziff grumbles his way out of his bed and joins Rian at the front of the cell for count. A CO walks around the block, checking each cell. She stops in front of Rian and Ziff. “Casterman. No shower for you this morning. Get your stuff together; I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies.

Ziff turns him. “What’s going on?” 

Rian just smiles. “I’m going to miss you Ziff.”

“Oh fuck me.” He takes the one stride to Rian and bear hugs him.

“Ow.”

“When did you find out?”

“Yesterday.”

“You fucking son of a bitch.” From Ziff, there was no better endearment. 

“Sorry man.” Rian moves to his bunk to get his sketches.

Soon the CO returns with a second guard carrying cuffs. Ziff steps back so they can remove Rian from the cell.

“Try to keep in touch, man.”

“You too. Good luck.” For all that the prison was a hell hole, there were somethings he was going to miss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning (short version)** \- Graphic depictions of violence. Rian is the victim (but it's okay in the end).
> 
>  **Trigger Warning (long version)** \- Phasma attacks Rian much like she attacked Jango, but it's all part of Rian's plan. He gets a few cracked ribs and ends up in the medical ward for a few days. This starts when Rian goes to leave the cafeteria, and but the start of the next section he's in the infirmary.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I hope the bromance didn't get too mushy there. 
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long, but a lot of the scenes didn't come out right on the first draft and I had lots of extra work commitments the last two weeks.
> 
> Head canon notes:  
> Just as Rian is being cuffed by the guards he says, "Ziff I saw her."  
> Ziff: "Saw who?"  
> Rian: "The needle exchange nurse."  
> Ziff: "And? What does she look like?"  
> Rian: "You'd like her."  
> Ziff: "But what does she _look_ like?"  
> *the guards start pulling Rian away*  
> Rian: "Oh, sorry got to go. No time. You should break a leg and visit the infirmary."  
> Ziff: "You should come back so I can break my hand on your face."  
> Rain: "Take care, Ziff."  
> Ziff: "Yeah, you too, man."
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Mini-note:** This (below) has always been my head-canon for Lusica's brother (for all that he's a super minor character). It's funny how the approximate date in the story has kept leap frogging with the date at time of posting, and so allowing me to post this particular chapter in June (this probably makes no sense at the moment, but maybe it will in a sec).

Kaydel’s heart races lightly as she sumits the stairwell of her apartment building. Part of the blame for this goes to the cardboard box she’s carrying; it’s large enough to be cumbersome, making the walk up the stairs tricky. But part of the blame lies with the box’s contents: her ‘research survey’ responses from a certain incarcerated alpha.

Kaydel had been out having dinner with Lusica and her brother when she realized she had missed several texts from Statura.

 **Dr. Statura** : Hi Kaydel. That special package you were expecting came in. Do you want to pick it up now?

 **Dr. Statura** : Kaydel? Are you there? 

**Dr. Statura** : Sorry, but I’m going to have to leave for home soon. 

**Kaydel** : I’m coming!

She was supposed to go shopping with Kaydel and her brother after dinner - Lusica’s brother needed a costume for the upcoming Pride Parade ( _first time on float, must look fabulous_ ) and Lusica needed a couple new outfits because her new job started next week ( _I support you, but I still don’t like them_ ) - but they didn’t mind her ditching when she told them that Statura needed her at the lab suddenly. She didn’t like lying to Lusica like that, but she thought that if Luscia knew the truth she would want her to go.

Statura had met her in his building’s lobby which was blessedly empty. He had originally tried to convince her to open the package, when it arrived, at the lab; she had made it clear that wasn’t happening.

Kaydel sits on her bed with the box before her. Her fingers shake as she slices the packing tape with a pair of scissors. She takes a deep breath and lifts the lid. As the air in the box mixes with that in her room she can smell it - just a hint of it - that scent that softly whispers _alpha_. And- _ooo_ … it was… _nice_. Faint, but so far she liked it. 

She picks through the contents, each motion sending more and more of that faint _alpha_ into the air. She tosses aside the empty foil envelope that had contained the cleansing swab. 

She considers opening Rian’s scent swab right away, but promptly thinks of all the ways that might backfire. What if he doesn’t like her scent? What if she likes his, only then to read his answers and find out he doesn’t want to meet. What if he’s changed his mind since talking to Luke? 

Luke…

She feels a pang of guilt in her chest. She’d felt bad about how things ended on the phone. She’d missed calling him.

But she has other things to do right now, like reading Rian’s survey. She opens the Part A booklet and forces herself to read his answers for the generic questions at the start. _Ooo_. It looks like he liked school; Kaydel had always liked school. They have _that_ in common it seems (though a moment later she thinks of how Rian never got the chance to finish his education, and frowns). 

Then she comes to the hobby question, the question she had altered to alert him to the survey author’s identity. As predicted the first row of the first column was checked off; _rifle hunting_. _And he underlined it!_ Nothing else was underlined. He’d noticed it. Was that a signal back to her that he understood her message? Or had he just underlined it because it was a favourite hobby? Or because he noticed it was out of place? Hmm. Okay. It wasn’t a conclusive sign. But, still, she could hope.

Next: the sex questions. 

Yes to kissing. Yes to petting. And… that was about it.

Okay. That’s cool. Really, it’s probably more than Kaydel should have expected. It’s like where Kaydel was back in highschool, which of course is how old he was when he presented so that made sense. 

Highschool. She could do highschool.

Next page. 

Mate? Yes.

No surprise there, really. But still important to ask (there was a paper showing that a small percentage of alphas _weren’t_ interested in finding a mate, but the study population also didn’t have exposure to omegas so some researchers thought that that number was higher than it would be in a freely mixing population).

Kids? Unsure.

Really, also no surprise. Something to think about. 

She reads through the other question. At the very end of Part A was a box for any comments. In it she finds straight lines of a neat-but-messy printing that reminds her of math class. “From the questions, it sounds like the author has done this before.”

 _Oh crap_. She closes her eyes and tries to think back. Had he said that? Yes, she thinks so, or something like it, in the interview. She was almost certain. He knew it was her. _He knew it was her!_ And he knew and he answered all the questions. _Yes!_

She giggles with excitement. This was by far the best survey results she had _ever_ read before. She switches to the Part B booklet, and gets another teasing hint of his scent as she flips the pages. 

_How much do you like the scent on swatch B1?_ 1 2 3 4 **5**

_Oh really?_

_How much are you sexually attracted to the scent on swatch B1?_ 1 2 3 4 **5**

 _Oh REAlly?_ When she wrote it, she had wondered if that question was a little too much but now she’s _very_ happy she left it in. _Fuck_ , she can feel herself getting wet over it. 

_How much would you want to meet someone with that scent?_ 1 2 3 4 **5**

She grins like an idiot. _Mr. Casterman you have just earned yourself a date._ If he can get out, a little voice in the back of her head reminds her. But while she’s waiting for him, she should see if she likes his scent just as much, right? 

She grabs the envelop with his scent swatch and holds it tight. So this was it. This is what she’s been waiting for. The thing she’d been missing. 

For a moment she’s reminded of Ackbar’s comment about pheromones as aphrodisiacs. She assumes that Rian wouldn’t object to her getting herself off on his scent, should the mood strike her. She glances at her dresser and is glad that she recently changed the batteries in her vibrators.

She contemplates which of her Kaydel/Rian fantasies might want to think of. Of course there was researcher/prisoner - one of her favourites - but there was also, prisoner/researcher, not to mention grad student/supervisor or prison guard/prisoner (and vice versa, of course).

Of course it was probably better to dispense with expectations, and just _open the damn envelop_ and just see what happens. 

Kaydel meticulously peels back the resealable tab on the envelope. Instantly that faint smell of _alpha_ grew stronger around her. She brought the envelope up to her nose… and inhaled…

_Oh … wow…_

… and all those other fantasies of Rian fell away. She’s not sure when she closed her eyes, but they’re closed now, and she feels like she’s floating in space and he’s all around her. He’s scent… wow... yes she could get very used to his scent. And mingled lightly in his scent… it was her. It was her scent. It must have gotten transferred along with his when he took his samples - and she _liked_ how it went with his.

She reaches into the envelope to remove the swatch, when a phone suddenly starts ringing in her room. Her first thought is to ignore it - it can go to voicemail - but it’s not her cell phone. Oh crap, it’s the burner phone that she got from from Threepio. She drops the envelope back in the box and scrambles to her desk only to find it covered with research articles.

She was pretty sure that Luke and Leia were the only ones who had the number, but she couldn’t think of why Leia would call her, and the only call she expected from Luke was when Rian was released and that wasn’t for a few more weeks. Maybe he was calling to talk, she thought guiltily. Maybe he was calling to apologize. Maybe she should apologize. Maybe… maybe she just needed to find the damn phone, she thinks as she tossed papers on the floor.

Finally she finds the cord and traces it to the phone. If it’s Luke there was so much she wanted to say. She puts the phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then a tired sigh, Luke’s sigh. Her heart jumps. “Three days,” he says… and a moment later the phone beeps to signal that he’s hung up. The silence on the phone is deafening.

Slowly Kaydel lowers the phone and powers it off. 

Rian must have gotten out early. She looks at the box of survey materials. _Wow_. She was going to meet him in three days. This was really going to happen. She should feel excited about the call - and she is. She should feel happy - and she is. About Rian. Her heart feels like it’s bursting. 

But at the same time it also feels so empty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Me:** And so ends Part I. There was going to be another chapter before we went to Part II, but it got reshuffled elsewhere. So yay we can finally switch to Part II, which is mostly Kaydel and Rian at his parents farm. But I have a confession which is-  
>  **My libido:** Do they get to bang now?  
>  **Me:** Who let you in here? And no they don't automatically start banging next chapter.  
>  **My libido:** What? Why not?  
>  **Me:** ‘Cause. Anyway, as I was saying, I don't actually have Part II all plotted out yet chapter to chapter, though I have the first few sketched out, so there may be some delays-  
>  **My libido:** Delays?  
>  **Me:** Look, it just might take a bit to get things rolling smoothly, partially because we are going away for a bit next week, and work gets really busy after that.  
>  **My libido:** DELAYS???  
>  **Me:** Just go sit over there, I'm talking to the nice people. Oh and hey, does anyone speak French? Quebecois French preferably. There is a little one shot side story that I want to put down and-  
>  **My libido:** No side writing!  
>  **Me:** I will write what I want to write.  
>  **My libido:** No side-  
>  **Me:** What if it's hawt?  
>  **My libido:** Hmmmm...
> 
> * * *
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).  
> And don't worry. Part II picks up directly as a continuation of this fic; no need to resubscribe elsewhere (FYI, I suspect Part II will not be as long as Part I).
> 
> But I was serious about needing some French Language assistance in the future, so please feel free to contact me via comment, or maybe better yet, [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/) if you are interested.
> 
> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be, it really depends how things go on the page and at my work place, but I hope it won't be too long.


	22. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl meets boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Part II. Thank you for all the support that everyone left during Part I.  
> Without further ado, let's get this party started...

Kaydel pushes her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose. 

“ _Turn - right - onto - County Road - Twenty - three._ ” 

As she rounds the curve she can hear her backpack shift in the back seat. 

“ _Drive - ten - point - six - kilometers - to destination. On left._ ” 

To either side of the road various crops grow in huge flat fields, interrupted only by the occasional house or barn. Just as she expects. 

_This is going to be a good day._

Over the last three days, Kaydel had spent far more time than needed viewing the road on mapping websites. Rian’s parents’ farm was the very last one before the road became a dirt lane that wrapped around the edge of their field. They had a two-storey farmhouse with a barn off to the side and a big tree out front, its huge sweeping boughs almost touching the ground. 

She would have looked at Rian’s house too - supposedly located around the bend on the dirt lane - but the street view images stopped shortly after his parents’ driveway, denying her any glimpse of it; leaving her with a hungry curiosity.

She had sated herself with what she had. She read every page of Rian’s research file and survey until she knew them back to front. At night she would lay in bed and think of him in his interview. It was _so_ long ago that her memories were fuzzy around the edges; she wished she had recorded it. 

She knows she doesn’t _know_ him from a single interview and a handful of survey questions but she knows she wants to try, to see if there is something between them. 

She wants it badly.

_7.8km._

And here she is, on a backcountry road in the middle of nowhere, just minutes away from him. 

_This is going to be a good day,_ she tells herself, though at the thought of his proximity a fluttery feeling blooms in the pit of her stomach. 

She lets out a long breath through pursed lips. It would certainly be a much _better_ day if her abdomen would stop doing that. It was the same fluttery feeling she would get before giving oral presentations, and it had plagued her on and off since her phone call with Luke (Luke, who she was trying _not_ to think about). 

The only thing that seemed to help the feeling was taking pulls of Rian’s scent which, consequently, she had done many, _many_ times over the last three days (not unlike she had been soothed by _another alpha’s_ scent not so long ago, but she was trying not to think of _that_ either). She wished she had more of Rian’s scent. The potency on the swatch had already started to fade. Of course, part of that was her fault. She could have kept it in its foil envelope, to preserve it, but instead she opted to keep it with her most of the time - in a pocket, or tucked in her bra. She _liked_ keeping it with her, so she had. 

But she also knew that she didn’t want to show up at his house covered in his scent - she didn’t want to seem desperate or presumptuous - so earlier this morning she had packed away the swatch before showering, and after she made sure that all the clothes she wore and packed carried nothing more than a faint hint of his pheromones. 

She wasn’t about to throw herself at a guy she barely knew.

Of course - as the little voice in the back of her head kept reminding her - Rian wasn’t just another _guy_. He was an _alpha_. Like the alphas she had read about - both as a child, and in school (and perhaps in _other_ formats). The little voice told her that she _should_ be interested in him (and she _was_ ). The little voice promised that he would be better for her than other men (and she hoped it was true). 

But that little voice in her head also fed her seeds of doubt, like now, reminding her that maybe he’s _not_ that interested in her. What if, despite his survey answers, he isn’t into her _at all_?

 _Then that’s fine. This may not work out and that’s fine,_ she tells herself for the dozenth time. She realizes that her knee is bouncing nervously and forces it to stop. Again, she takes a deep breath and lets it out. 

_4.6 km._

As she drives the farms on the right are replaced by a rocky forest intermixed with swamp.

_This is going to be a good day._

She had been nervous telling Lusica about the trip. “I can’t make the Parade this weekend,” she’d finally blurted out.

Lusica, sitting in her usual spot on the couch, had just kept her eyes on her laptop. “Does this have anything to do with Mr. Phone-call-guy?”

 _No_ , was Kaydel’s initial reaction. _This is not about he-whom-I’m-not-thinking-about._ But, of course, Lusica thought that phone-call-guy _was_ Rian (albeit beta-Rian). “Umm, maybe.”

At that Lusica just nodded and sipped her coffee, though when Kaydel told her she was going to his house in the middle of the country Lusica had read her the riot act. “How do you know he’s not a psycho?”

“He’s… not.” She wished she sounded more certain, but what could she really say that after barely having a conversation? Lusica raised an eyebrow at her in doubt. “I just… have a feeling.” Precisely, she had two feelings: that Rian had seemed like a decent guy, and that _that other person_ would have said something if he wasn’t.

“Would it be better if someone went with you?” Lusica asked, clearly offering. 

Again Kaydel felt bad for keeping Lusica in the dark. She was the _one_ _person_ Kaydel would have considered bringing with her. But telling her meant risking everything. She just couldn’t do it. However, she also didn’t want to turn her friend down flat; luckily there was a reason why Lusica _couldn’t_ come with her. “I... might stay a while,” And Kaydel knew that Lusica’s new job started next week. 

“How long of a while?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how things go.”

Lusica rolled her eyes and looked back at the TV, which she had paused during their discussion.

“I will text you every day, and I’ll leave his address on the fridge.”

Lusica continued to gaze at the static image on the screen. 

“And... I think I really might like this guy.” It was the most committal comment Kaydel had made about a guy in _years_ and with that Lusica sighed and looked back to her. 

“You should text more than once a day. And send me selfies so I know he isn’t the one texting me.”

 _1.2km_.

The crops on the left suddenly give way to a flat grassy pasture. 

_This is going to be a good day._

Several dozen white puffballs dot the far side of the field. Sheep. 

Kaydel had looked up old news articles surrounding Rian’s sanctions and sentencing. The local media had been _merciless;_ they had never entertained the possibility that Rian’s had been innocent. 

And Kaydel? Kaydel wasn’t really sure what she thought. She wanted to believe his story, but she had spent the last several years training herself to draw conclusions based on facts and currently she had too few to draw any conclusions. But either way he had served his sentence ( _seven_ times over); at least for now she could defer her usual desire for answers. 

The pasture ends at a low stone wall and is replaced by a field of green stalks. After a moment she can see the farmhouse. A large sign greets her at the end of the driveway. _Casterman Corn_. 

A navy blue pickup truck is parked just off the driveway so she pulls up on its far side, away from the road. If she can keep her car out of sight, why not? She _kind of_ has a cover story for her presence - she’s here interviewing Rain and his parents as a follow up to his prison sentence, of course - but it would be better if she just never had to use it. 

She cuts the ignition and lets out another long breath to try again to settle her stomach; disappointingly it does little to help. She trades her sunglasses for her phone in the center console and sends Lusica a text that she arrived. The message is promptly returned with a thumbs up emoji. 

_Okay, Kaydel, let’s do this_. 

She hops out of the vehicle and is hit with the heat of the day. It seeps into her, melting away the chill from the air conditioning. She feels a sheen of sweat start to form and is _very_ glad she wore shorts, even if it is supposed to rain later. 

She eagerly opens the back door of her vehicle, but at the sight of her backpack sitting there - pink with white geometric cats on it - she freezes. She’s _supposed_ to pick up the bag and then walk to the farmhouse and knock on the door, but at the thought of doing so the tight feeling in the pit of her stomach worsens. Because _what if this is all a mistake?_ Her breathing speeds up and all her prior doubts come rushing back.

She squeezes her eyes tight and tries to slow her breaths. She just needs a moment, to take her mind off of things. She opens her eyes and starts re-checking the contents of her backpack. In theory, it holds everything she might need for the next twenty-four hours (she has more clothes packed in the trunk, but they can stay there for now; again, she’s aiming for not-desperate, not-presumptuous). She moves from one pocket to the next, ticking off the items on her mental list as she finds them.

She’s so tuned in to checking her belongings, that she doesn’t actually notice the figure - dressed in a short-sleeved, plaid, button-down shirt and shorts - sitting on a bench-swing, in the shadows, under the large birch tree in the center of the yard. Nor does she notice when said figure starts walking towards her, across the grass.

Of course, everything in her backpack is where she expects it. She tells herself to stop stalling. The only thing missing, she realizes, is her baseball cap, which had been sitting on top of her bag. She spots on the floor on the far side of the car. She leans in, snags it, stands, and shoulders her bag as she closes the door and turns and- 

“ _Oh!_ ” 

-squeaks at the unexpected sight of a tall figure standing behind her. She claps her hand over her mouth a moment later, embarrassed.

“Sorry.” Rian shrinks back even though he’s still a few steps away from her. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you.” He runs his hand nervously though his hair.

Whether because of the startle or because of the figure’s identity, Kaydel’s heart is beating like a hummingbird, but behind her hand a smile has already appeared. “No, I’m sorry. I should have seen you.” 

He glances at the car and back to her, looking confused. “A-are you here by yourself? Skywalker made it sound like someone was coming with you.” Said the wrong way it might have been creepy for someone to ask that, but there is something undefinably innocent about his face and manor, and so his question feels well intentioned.

“Ah, nope.” She gives an innocent shrug (and pushes away the thoughts of how she may have been less than truthful with _that other person_ regarding that subject). “Just me.” 

“Just you…” His voice sounds far off for a moment before he gives an overly casual shrug. “That’s cool. How was your drive?”

“Good.” Very descriptive Kaydel. “Traffic was good.” She kicks herself for having nothing more to say, but her brain seems to be short circuiting as it takes him in. His tousled looking hair; the tattoo on his neck; his _forearms_. And _holy crap_ he’s so _tall_. Kaydel was _used_ to other people being taller than her, but right now he seems _towering_ , and not in a bad way. “Ummm… how’s being home?” she blurts, in part because she wants to know but also in part to avoid just staring at him mutely.

“Ah, good.” He seems to relax a bit at the question. “Really good actually. I never thought I would miss it so much.” He glances quickly at the fields around them and she follows his gaze.

The corn stalks in the fields are easily taller than she is; the sky above holds only a few clouds; and all she can hear is the wind rustling the leaves and a few birds chirping nearby. It reminds her of home; the one she hasn’t seen in several years. “It’s really pretty out here.” The words escape her mouth and instantly she hopes they don’t sound cliche. 

But Rian must not think so because his smile widens a bit. “Thanks. It’s been in the family a long time. I, ah….” He starts, but then he suddenly drops his gaze as if searching for the thing he’s trying to say.

“What?” she asking encouragingly after a moment.

“I ah… I actually still don’t know your name,” he says apologetically. 

_What?_ “ _Oh!_ ” Kaydel says for the second time in less than a minute. “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks burn slightly. “It’s Kaydel.”

He blinks and his lips move slightly as if savouring her name as he runs it through his mind. “Oh wow, that’s really pretty.”

She can’t help her smile deepening. “Thanks. It’s been in the family a long time.” They both break into a soft laugh at her echoed words (what? It was true; it was her grandmother’s). “I’m sorry, I thought Skywalker...” She decides on the spot that it’s fine to refer to _him_ like that.“...would have told you.” 

He shrugs. “Ah, well... we didn’t really have a chance to speak freely.”

 _Oh_. She should have known that. She could have known that, but she had burned that bridge and guilt shoots through her. She’s momentarily at a loss for what to say, but whether by accident or intention Rian saves her from needing to. 

“I, ah… I also don’t know exactly what _this_...” and he made a loose circular gesture in the air beside him. “...is. But I’m happy for it to be... whatever you were thinking of. I, ah... I don’t know if there are other people you’ve met or are planning to meet or-”

“There’s not,” she interrupts. “Anyone else.” _Kaydel_. Not-presumptuous. Not-desperate. Remember? “Currently,” she adds. 

“Oh...” He swallows. “ Okay… So this is…like a...” but his words fail him again and his hand runs itself through his hair once more.

“Like an… almost blind date that we set up for ourselves?” Kaydel offers.

“Ah, yeah, okay,” he says and the smile returns to his face. “That sounds great.” 

She feels herself getting pulled into that smile, but then something moves in her peripheral vision; a curtain on the main floor of the house. “Rian..?” It feels nice to say his name out loud, but right now she’s worried about: “I think someone’s watching us.” 

Rian stills; his eyes close and his eyebrows pull together for a moment. “That’s probably my mom… who I asked not to do that.” He voice is pained and he sighs. “And if we keep standing here, she’s probably going to come out and introduce herself.”

 _Oh..._ And for all that Kaydel had planned to knock on his parents’ front door, now that she’s found Rian she feels strange at the thought of meeting his parents when she’s barely met him. Her eyes fly around the yard. _Shit._ And there wasn’t really anywhere they could _go_. With his tracker it wasn’t like they could get in her car and drive away.

Her internal distress must show on her face because Rian nods his head in the direction of the corn field, the one that lay in the same direction as his house supposedly. “Do you want to..?”

“Yes,” she replies promptly, and like they had practiced it before they start walking towards the field, in sync, on parallel paths to each other. For a moment Kaydel thinks she sees a grimace on Rian’s face as he turns towards the field, but it’s gone a moment later.

“You don’t need anything else from your car?” he asks as he studies her.

“No, I’m good.” She hefts her backpack to further her response. She watches him closely but he shows no further discomfort as they walk. 

She had been thankful for the hasty exit, but as they come up to the wall of green she looks hesitantly at the crop. The rows here were planted parallel to the road, forming green corridors stretching out before her. “Do you often walk through here?” She slows as they approach the edge of the field, and he matches her speed.

“In the summer? Always. As long as it hasn’t rained. It’s either this or the road, and sometimes people drive by, so…” His voice grows a little quiet and he doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to. He chooses walking in the field over the chance of being seen and harassed; she supposes that not being seen might be doubly important now that she’s here. 

“The field sounds great.” She chirps and picks up her pace to plunge between the stalks; Rian mirrors her strides entering the field two rows down. 

It’s cooler walking through the stalks. As they go, she watches him, and he in turn watches her, through the layers of green. “Do people drive by often? I thought you were the last ones on the road.”

“Well, yeah we are, and we own the lane but it connects at the other end and technically there’s a right of way, so we can’t stop people from driving through. Not a lot of people do it; it’s faster to take the county road, but some do it just ’cause they can.”

She nods. Because they can; she’s heard that one before.

The wind picks up for a moment, and for the first time Kaydel catches a whiff of something _interesting_ on the breeze. It’s faint and she can’t fully characterize it, but it’s familiar and comforting. It’s Rian, she realizes, and she wishes the breeze would bring her more. “I’m sorry again about the name thing,” she apologizes. Rian just shrugs it off with a little hand wave that says it’s no big deal. “If you and Skywalker didn’t get to talk then… you don’t really know anything about me, do you?”

“Ah… well, not really. I mean, I take it you do alpha research and to do that I assume that you’re at a university. Umm.. you have Ontario plates on your car, and you’re doing research in Ontario, so I would guess that it’s an Ontario university. Ahh, but it’s hard to say which one based on your arrival time. It could have been any of them depending on when you left.”

 _Oh._ Her cheeks hurt a little now from her smile. It wasn’t a stunning conclusion - who could blame him when he had basically nothing to work with? - but she liked his methodology and somehow it _meant_ something to her that he had bothered to put it all together like that. “That would be correct. Anything else?”

He smiles in a self-deprecating way. “Ahh, I think that’s all I have for now.” 

She looks ahead of her for a moment, considering the situation; but she doesn’t consider it long. “I’m at UofT.” She offers suddenly. There’s really no reason to hide it. If you search for ‘Kaydel’ and ‘alpha’ on PubMed anyone can pull up the paper that she co-authored with one of Statura’s PhD students last year, and from there it would be clear that she was at UofT. She could let him find it himself but it just feels better to give that to him freely. 

He looks back up to her and smiles again, as if he appreciates the information. “What exactly are you doing there? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Ah, it’s an epidemiology masters; in alpha studies of course.”

He nods, pensively. He looks to the path before him before turning back to her. “Umm, so how did that work exactly? You doing alpha research and but you’re also an…” He gestures up and down vaguely in her direction. 

“Ahhh…” She could feel her cheeks go hot red. She supposed it was going to come up _some_ time. “I didn’t know,” she admits, and Rian’s eyebrows shoot up as his jaw drops a bit. She quickly pushes on. “But nothing bad happened, and that’s all that matters.”

“Oh...” His eyes study her. “How did you…” He cuts himself off. “-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask that.”

“No, it’s okay. Ah… it was Skywalker actually.” _And now you’ve pushed him away_ , a little voice reminds her. “He was interested in my research and we met to discuss it. He, ah... figured it out, a few months ago. I’m not registered, of course.”

“No, of course not,” he agrees emphatically, but his eyes drift from hers. It gives her the chance to study his face, the way his brow pinches as he considers this new information. 

She doesn’t want to lose the flow of their conversation so she shifts the topic slightly. “Umm, thanks for taking part in my study last fall.”

He looks back up to her and clears his throat. “No problem.” 

“I take it you did another study recently.”

“Oh, ah, I-” And then he _blushes_ ; she’s sure of it even looking at him through two rows of corn stalks. “Umm...” is all he can manage before he averts his gaze.

“What?” she asks coyly. 

He looks back at her... “I, ah…” … but then just blushes again; he can’t meet her gaze.

She considers her next move. “I liked your scent too,” she says softly but clearly.

His head swings back up to her at that. “You did?” 

“Well, it wasn’t bad,” she adds teasingly as she looks straight forward. But when she gets no retort to this - just silence - she wonders if she’s teased too much. Again, her go to is to change the subject. “So, I thought you weren’t getting out of Redguard for another couple of weeks.”

His answer to this comes quickly. “Ah yeah... I ended up getting out a little early.”

She turns to him and finds him looking at her. “Well _that’s_ really nice.” 

“Ah, yeah,” he says vaguely.

“Does that happen often?” She’s pretty sure she had _never_ heard of an alpha being released from prison _early_.

“Ah, no. Not usually.” 

More stilted conversation, but she’s _far_ from ready to give up. Kaydel was highly skilled at finding topics of conversation that other people enjoyed. “So your house over this way, right?” She points straight ahead of them. 

“Ah yeah, over there, actually.” He points off to the left and slightly forward. “It’s just off the lane.”

“You live really close to your parents; did you ever consider just living with them? Or is it a space thing?” It’s at this time that the rows of corn start gently curving to the left as they walk; Rian slows so that he doesn’t get ahead of Kaydel, who’s on the longer path. 

“Umm… it’s nice to have a little space, but there were other reasons. For one, the isolation allowance from the government is a lot more if you live ‘independently’, but I actually couldn’t live with them if I wanted to. The town has a bylaw that unattached alphas over eighteen can’t reside within the town limits and everything up to the lane is technically part of the town. I can visit as much as I want - ah, with my parents’ permission, of course - but I can’t _live_ here.” He gestures down at the dirt they walk on. 

“Oh…” she responds. The rows straighten out again, and it seems to Kaydel that they’re traveling parallel to their previous trajectory.

Rian continues. “Anyway, the lot on the other side of the lane is ours too, but it’s _not_ part of the town. My grandparents bought but never did anything with it. So when I had to move out, my dad and I built a small house there.” 

Kaydel watches and listens to Rian. He’s much more relaxed than before; it’s obviously a safe. “That worked out well.”

“It’s not bad. It’s not very big,” he admits. “And living there is a little rougher than a usual house. It’s off grid, technically.”

“And you built it, like, over ten years ago, right?”

He nods. 

“You know that tiny off grid houses are totally a _thing_ these days, right?”

He laughs at that. “Ah yeah. When my mom would visit, she would always tell me about the tiny-house videos she would see online, and _every_ time she would tell me that I should make videos of my house when I got out.” 

Kaydel’s brows pinch slightly in confusion. “Wait... your mom thinks you should make videos about your tiny house and post them online...?” Which would require some kind of social media account… which alpha are banned from holding… and at the very least the video would probably attract unwanted attention... what?

“Umm…yeah. My mom’s a little weird that way.”

“In what way?” She playfully squints her eyes as if doing so would let her look into his thoughts.

“Ahhh… it’s hard to explain. You’ll see... if you meet her. What about your folks? What do they think about all this?” 

The funny squint drops from Kaydel’s face like a stone. “Oh, ummm… they don’t know.” And Kaydel realizes, a little sadly, that in the last three months she hadn’t even _thought_ about telling her parents how her life had changed. “They are rather… alpha-negative. My dad mostly. I haven’t spoken to them since I announced my masters project.” 

“Oh...” The concern in his voice surprises her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” She waves his words off. “It’s not new.”

A somber lull falls on them, and this time it’s Rian that speaks first. “Where did you grow up?” 

“Up north,” she says, and instantly kicks herself for how short and vague her answer sounds. She shouldn’t let her thoughts about her parents sour the moment. “Wawa, specifically,” she adds in what she hopes is a cheery tone. 

His smile returns. She’s about to tell him more when his gaze shifts past her. “Oh.” He stops suddenly and it’s like Kaydel is jerked to a stop by an invisible tether. “We’re here.” He gestures behind her.

It’s almost an effort for her to turn away from him, but she manages it. Behind her, through several layers of corn stalks, she can see a dark gap in the trees. 

“That is, if you want to go see it. My place. We could just sit on the deck, or... whatever...” A hint of uncertainty has returned to his voice. “Or we could keep walking; if we go to the end of the field we can pick up a trail that will bring us back to my place in under an hour. Ummm either way, it would be nice if you’d stay for dinner after.” 

It’s a simple choice. Did she want to go to his place and rest? Maybe find a place to put down her rather heavy backpack? Or does she want to keep walking for a bit first? After being on the road for hours, the former was clearly the more appealing, but for some reason something feels _wrong_ with wanting to go that way. 

It wasn’t the road, it wasn’t the house that was supposedly down it; she didn’t think a sinister fate awaited her there. It was... the direction… she realizes. She didn’t want to go in _that_ direction. Or rather, she felt a pull in the other one. Towards Rian. She turns back to him again, “I-” Now she’s the one stumbling for words. She’s not quite sure what she’s feeling. 

She looks up at him, and she realizes that he hasn’t moved from where he stopped. His eyes are still on her, waiting. But then something changes in his presence. He’s no longer looking at her but over her, to the distance. 

“Wha-”

“ _Shhhh_ -” He cuts her off firmly and her lips snap shut. Whereas a moment before he sounded like a shy high school kid asking a girl on a date now he’s something else entirely. He looks like he’s in his element; his domain. He stands stock-still with his head cocked to listen, eyes focused past the sea of green that envelopes them. And then she can hear it too. A whirring sound. A motor? Or…

He looks to her as he stretches out his hand. “ _Kaydel_...” he says, and his intent is clear. She reaches for him without hesitation and their hands meet in the empty row between them. His hand is large and warm and calloused and she lets him pull her towards him through the rows of corn stalks. He shifts her past and behind him, away from the road, and guides them both to a crouch. 

The whirring sound has grown louder and it was now clear that it was not one motor but several. She doesn’t know what is causing the noise, or why it seems to be of concern to Rian, but instead of feeling worried she finds herself feeling perfectly calm. The seconds stretch out until:

_Vrooommmm --- Vrooommm --- Vroooommm…..._

Several ATVs shoot loudly past them on the lane, their drivers oblivious to Kaydel and Rian crouching in the field. They are out of sight after just a moment. Rian is still watching the road, his back to her, when he speaks, “Sorry. They’re just a bunch of local assholes. They ride through here every so often.” 

The sound from the ATVs fades into the distance, but Kaydel’s focus was on something else entirely. The scent that had teased her earlier, was much _much_ stronger here, next to him. She could now fully recognize the scent as a match to Rian’s sample, though here it was so much _fuller_ than when transported over time and space via cotton. 

And, for the first time in three days, the butterflies in her stomach are completely still. 

He must be satisfied that the ATVs were gone, because it’s then that Rian, still crouched, turns to her and the moment after he does his nostrils flare and his mouth drops open a bit. It’s the first time Kaydel can properly see the green of his eyes, which, at the moment, are staring right into hers.

“Hi,” she says, her hand resting lightly on his forearm.

“Hi,” Rian replies, his voice a tad rougher than before. 

_Oh yes_ , Kaydel thinks. _This is going to be a_ very _good day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the voice of Dr. David "Attenborough" Ackbar:  
>  _Both male and female Canadian are known for their frequent apologies, a behaviour which only seems to be enhanced during the early stages of courtship. Watch here, as any verbal stumble or physical misstep may trigger an apology. How this apology is accepted or, sometimes, not accepted, seems to also be important to the courtship ritual..._  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> Guys, I am so sorry this took so long. Believe me that I have thought about this fic every day, trying to shape it, and I have written almost every day. I haven't spent so much time on a chapter since Chapter 1; there was just so much to cram in here and it had to be _right_. I'm hoping subsequent chapters follow much quicker.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Full disclosure: I grew up in a small town with lots of farms in the area, but I don't actually know how real farming really works so I apologize for any farm-related inaccuracies in this and future chapters.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Highschool. I can do highschool. - Kaydel, Chapter 21_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg. I'm so so sorry for the wait. This chapter ended up being so long, it's been such a beast to edit (seriously guys, my kingdom for a beta). Anyway, I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> I also did a mood board shortly after posting the last chapter. It's very basic, but I think it sums up Part II nicely. ;)

He had to tell her. 

The thought had occurred to Rian on his second day home, while he was scrubbing three years of grime off out of his bathroom sink.

She had sent him a sample of her scent as some kind of getting-to-know-you, and what had he done? He had fallen into the deepest rut he had ever experienced.

He couldn’t have stopped it if he had wanted too, and at the time he really hadn’t. He had _wanted_ her and his little art collection had helped him imagine having her in every way possible. And Rian realized that while he may be the most un-alpha of alphas, he was still just as debased as all the rest. And what was worse was that on the morning his rut started, he hadn’t even realized it.

He had to tell her, because if he didn’t and he started falling into another rut, he was afraid of how quickly things could get out of hand.

His rational side pointed out it might be some time before he could even _go_ into rut again (though he couldn’t be sure, so this wasn’t much comfort).

His rational side pointed out that he couldn’t use his prison rut to gauge how he would react with a _real_ partner (but who said it wouldn’t be _worse_ ).

His rational side pointed out that he hadn’t hurt anyone, that he had simply spent a few days mastrubating twenty-four/seven (great, so he had excellent _stamina_ while he was under the influence of his raging hormones). 

His rational side pointed out that that’s what prison ruts were all about. Being locked away so that you could work it out of your system without hurting anyone. That’s what the whole system was about; preventing alphas from hurting anyone (and now that he was back home, there were no cells and no bars to do that for him; there wasn’t even anyone to _keep an eye on things_ , he realized when Kaydel unexpectedly arrived alone).

He decided he needed to tell her because if her visit lasted more than a day and he started falling into rut again, then at least she would have a better chance of _leaving_. 

Of course, it would be nice if he could tell her without sounding completely creepy or desperate. He didn’t have to tell her _everything_ , just the basics. Unfortunately since she arrived he seemed to be having trouble saying _anything_ to her without tripping over himself. He could have easily segued to discussing the effects of her pheromones when she brought up her second study but instead he had _blushed_ and chickened out. Gods, he was so hopeless at talking to women.

And now, as they crouch between the rows of corn to avoid the ATVs and Rian turns and truly catches her scent for the first time that day, all he can think is: now is definitely _not_ the time to tell her.

“Hi.” Her eyes are light brown; he hadn’t noticed that before.

“Hi,” Rian replies. He wants to say more but he’s not sure that his voice will hold out. Her scent isn’t _strong,_ it isn’t _overpowering,_ but it is _there_ in the space between them, drawing him in. The scent summons forth ‘memories’ from his rut - the shape of her mouth, the sound of her sighs - which he promptly tries to push away. He can feel the blood starting to rush, and this time not to his face. 

He tries to distract himself with the formula for the diffusion of particles, tries to conceptualize her pheromones as a simple concentration gradient and ignore their other effects. And now his brain is too busy to say anything, but it doesn’t matter because she saves him, again. “Sounds like they’re gone now.” As she turns to follow the sound of the receding ATVs, he gets a full view of the gland on the side of her neck. He mentally has to kick himself to stop staring at it. She looks back to him and moves to stand, and he’s suddenly aware that her hand is on his wrist, but instead of letting go, she grabs a hold of him with both hands - gripping right over his tracker - and drags him up with her.

As she pulls him up he’s thankful for his baggy shorts and untucked shirt - the perennial style at Yavingard - and as he stands right next to her he finally realizes just how _tiny_ she is. He wasn’t used to feeling so _tall_. She releases his wrist, and he misses it instantly, but he reminds himself of his goals today: not creepy, not desperate.

She smiles at him. “You know... I think it’d be nice to go for a walk before dinner.”

He blinks and shifts his mind back to their previous conversation. She’s taking him up on a walk. _And_ dinner. “Oh- yeah. Sure.” 

“But would you…” She looks up at him through her eyelashes. “...mind carrying my backpack?”

“Ah-” His heart starts hammering under the stunning effects of her gaze. “Not at all.” He holds out his hand to take it from her and weight of it drags his arm down, forcing the bruised muscles in his side to engage, causing him to wince. 

“Are you okay?” 

_Crap._ She noticed. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just heavy- heavier than I was expecting.” He shoulders the pack, ignoring the protests from his lats. While he had resolved that he needs to tell her about his rut, he was still planning to _not_ tell her about his injuries. Alphas accomplish things by force, not by throwing fights. He had considered telling her, but everytime he ran the conversation through his mind it always ended either with him spelling out how _un_ -alpha he is, or with uncomfortable explanations about Phasma and her stun baton. 

She squints her eyes at him, clearly unconvinced. For a moment he thinks she’s going to call him on it, but instead she looks past him, down the field. “It’s this way, right?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He moves to the side so she can go first, and she smiles. The row is narrow enough that Kaydel’s hip brushes against his thigh as she passes him. He falls in behind her and wonders what it means that she stayed in his row rather than returning to her own. 

After a minute or so of following her, he realizes that he’s still getting wafts of her scent, so he trails behind a little, thinking to give her pheromones more time to disperse, though for some reason after another minute it still seems just as strong. Of course, walking a little farther back also puts her hips more easily into his line of sight. They sway back and forth as she walks, and he catches himself staring at her... umm... yeah... the same one he got an eye-full of when she first arrived and was grabbing things out of her car. He forces his gaze up and past her. _Not creepy_ , he reminds himself.

The gods of timing must have been smiling on his because it’s then that she looks back at him. “Does your family just grow corn?” 

He clears his throat. “Ah, well we usually have one field on rotation. This year we have wheat in the back field.” He gestures ahead of them in the distance.

She nods and looks forward again, but soon she turns back with another question. “So how are things with your neighbours?” She gestures towards the far side of the farm, where sheep graze on the other side of a stone wall. 

“Ummm.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I think it’s fine. My dad had them over yesterday, to let them know I was home and that I was going to steer clear of that side of our property. Dad gave them a tour of his gun room; he had a new lock put on it and he has the only key... to make sure there are no further misunderstandings.”

Kaydel listens to him intently, searching his eyes as he speaks. “That’s good,” she says, and returns her gaze forward. 

Shortly they come to the end of the field. Kaydel stays behind holding the backpack again, while Rian checks the lane. It’s clear in both directions and he signals for her to join him. A narrow path disappears into the woods on the other side. Again Rian follows Kaydel, again carrying the backpack. 

The path winds through a rocky forest. He watches Kaydel as she takes it in for the first time. He catches her smiling at the trees and plants and something in his chest swells at her approval. It’s his first time walking the path since he returned and he notices how the young trees are taller now, how the path is more overgrown.

They hike in a comfortable silence. At times they can see swampy patches through the foliage. They approach a break in the trees and Rian slows as Kaydel steps out into the grassy meadow beyond, sunlight dancing off her hair. He shakes himself and follows her out. 

In the center of the clearing, a large willow stands and he suddenly remembers the fantasy he had had after Skywalker’s visit; of him taking Kaydel under that tree. He takes a slow, even breath and narrowly avoids another erection. Her scent in the air is _not_ helping the situation.

Kaydel looks back and sees the stupid grin on his face. “What?” she asks.

“Sorry just-” he clears his throat. “...it’s nice that you’re here.”

She gives him another unconvinced look but, ultimately, she turns and continues walking. 

He decides he needs to get out of her scent trail, so he speeds up to walk beside her. As they near the tree he takes a deep breath expecting the air to be clear except… it’s... not. It still smells like _her_. Which should be impossible given the wind at the moment. And then he gets it. He waits until she’s looking the other way, and he brings his nose down to his shoulder. Oh- yeah. Yup. That’s it. The straps of the backpack are _covered_ in her scent. It’s fine, he tells himself. It’s not _that_ strong. She had asked him to carry it and he’s not going to back out now. 

They walk on past the tree and come across a dilapidated bullseye, half hidden in the long grass. “Yours?” she asks.

Rian nods. “Yeah, it’s a nice spot for shooting.”

“I thought you had to give up rifles.” There was something in her tone - something that was more than just polite curiosity - but it was still a fair comment.

Rian walks over to the target and pulls a sun-bleached arrow from the grass not far from the target. “I gave up rifles, but I kept doing archery.”

Kaydel’s mouth falls into a surprised ‘O’ as he passes her the arrow. She looks back up to him. “You checked that off on your survey.” He can hear the dots connecting in her mind. “You can still do that?” 

He nods. “There’s no restrictions on unlicensed weapons.”

“Are you any good?”

“Not bad.” Rian tries to hold in a grin at her sudden interest; he likes where this is going. 

A curious gleam appears in Kaydel’s eyes as they flick down to his hands. “Would you show me.”

“Ah, yeah…” His mind spins with the logistics of accomplishing this. “I’d have to get my equipment. It’s at my parents’ place. Do you want to do that now? Or after supper?”

“Mmmm, we don’t have to do it today...” The words flow out of her mouth almost lazily, as she turns to continue walking. 

Her words are like a lightning strike. She’s thinking of coming back another day. _Be cool, Casterman._ “Yeah. Sure, whenever you want.” He starts following her as they head to the other end of the meadow.

“So... what else do you usually do when you’re home?” She asks the approaching trees.

“Ahh… help my dad with the farm. Watch videos online.”

She turns back to him, eyebrow raised. “Oh?”

His cheeks start to heat when he realizes what he said. “Ahh, educational videos. Youtube and stuff,” he corrects quickly, not expanding on ‘and stuff’.

She bites her lower lip. “Will you show me?”

* * *

The deck was the first thing Rian noticed when they got out of the car. 

“Do you like it?” his mom had asked as she hugged him again. “It’s your coming home present.”

“Yeah. Wow.” The cedar-planked deck was half the size of his tiny square house. “It’s really nice.” It sat on the far side of the house, away from the fields, as the close side was occupied by two giant propane tanks. 

His mom gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed inside with an armful of groceries.

His dad, with his dark hair and broomhandle mustache, joined him to admire the new structure.

“Did you build it?” Rian asked after a moment.

“Uh-huh,” his dad nodded.

Rian tilted his head, squinting at the planks. “The wood is weathered...” Silver rather than gold. Why would he have used weathered wood?

His father leaned his head towards him, lowering his voice. “She made me build it last summer.”

Rian’s mouth fell open. Last summer; another time he been very close to release. “Oh, I’m sorry D-”

“Hey.” His dad cut him off gently with a slight lift of his hand. “We’re just glad your home.”

His mom popped out of the house and scurried back over to him with excited eyes. “If you’re having a girl over we need to buy you curtains.” And after declaring this she moved past him to grab more bags out of the car.

****

* * *

Kaydel sits in a faded lounge chair, on the cedar deck, Rian’s massive laptop balanced on her thighs. “Oh cool!”

Rian grins as he mans the barbeque. “What?”

“He’s making rope.”

Rian thinks he remembers the video. “Oh yeah?” He had gone through a phase of watching survivalist videos several years ago. 

“He’s, like, pulling apart the fibers from the tree bark and braiding them.” Her smile is radiant; he’s getting used to it very quickly. “Have you ever done any of this stuff?”

“Ah, no,” he admits. “But I’d like to think I could if I had to. You know, for when the alpha uprising starts.” They both laugh. He checks his timer and pulls the steaks off of the barbeque, followed a moment later by the asparagus and tinfoil-wrapped corn on the cob. He checks over everything as he sets the food on the table; two place settings across from each other, very _normal_. He clears his throat. “All set.” He pulls out Kaydel’s seat for her, and she smiles at him as she sits. 

“This looks really nice. So is the corn from your field?” She glances in the direction of the field. 

“Ah, no,” he says as he takes the seat across from her. “Ours won’t be ready for a few more weeks. But mom always insists that we have corn whenever someone new is over.”

She giggles. “That’s cute.”

Over the meal Kaydel peppers him with questions about his tiny house; how it’s powered with solar and propane, and how the slanted roof collects rain water into a cistern that is filtered for drinking. As he answers, Rian finds himself watching her eat, both mesmerized by her mouth and trying to judge if she likes it or not. 

The wind shifts suddenly, cool and crisp. He looks to the west and sees dark clouds through the treetops. “Looks like rain,” he says absently. “Are you all done?” She nods. He swallows. “Would you like to come in for a bit?” 

“Sure,” she says, the corners of her mouth curling up. Rian springs to action, gathering their plates to bring them inside. 

The house itself is very simple; nearly square with the bathroom and open kitchen along one wall. The rest is just a big room, though several large curtains wall-off the ‘bedroom’ area; _those_ had always been there, it was for the _windows_ that his mom had bought new ones. 

The tiny house holds very little scent, having stood vacant for the last few years. Rian’s is starting to stake a claim again, but now Kaydel’s also lingers from when she came in earlier to use the washroom. Underlying it all is the fresh smell of soap and disinfectant. 

Rian starts running the sink for the dishes. Kaydel carries in his laptop. “Do you mind if I watch something else?”

“No, not at all,” he says as he heads back to the deck for the barbeque utensils. It starts to rain as he ducks back inside.

Kaydel sits on the couch and sets up the laptop on the coffee table. Rian quickly washes their dishes and immediately starts drying and putting away one plate, one fork, one knife and one glass, leaving the other set to dry in the drainer. It wasn’t his habit to do the dishes right after a meal, or to put them away in this fashion, but this was another thing he had decided to do, not for Kaydel’s approval, but for her safety.

They had talked about it as they finished their hike to his house. At any time anyone could drive up Rian’s lane and knock on the door. He had installed an alarm of sorts years ago; it would chime whenever someone entered his laneway, which was handy since his mom had a habit of just walking in without knocking. The alarm would give them about thirty seconds warning, long enough for Kaydel to hide. But hiding her wouldn’t matter if a visitor noticed other evidence of her presence, so they hid her backpack under his bed and he was happy to wash the dishes and put one set away immediately after they ate. He had been worried that she would think it was overkill, that he was being paranoid, but instead she nodded and said it was a good idea, and had even gone on to explain her ‘cover story’ in case she was caught. 

As Rian washes the last of the dishes a male voice pops over the laptop’s speakers. “...one on fifteen, one on twenty-three...” He recognises the voice and realizes she’s playing a math video from hs bookmarks. It’s an interesting choice; maybe she likes math too. 

It starts raining harder as he pulls the plug in the sink. He turns around and leans on the counter, still not quite believing that what he sees. He’s home and there’s a _girl_ on his couch. And she’s funny and smart and smells _amazing_ ; and that’s not mentioning how she’s been the object of his fantasies since the day he met her. 

And now she’s here to see him, to meet him. 

And he has no idea what he’s supposed to do. 

He runs his fingers through his hair.

****

* * *

Rian was in grade eleven history class- or, he really should say _eleventh grade year_ history class; it still didn’t make much sense to him, but he felt that way about a lot of things at the school. 

He and his new friends sat on the far side of class, at the back. He could hear Ben muttering and writing behind him. Rian was pretty sure the larger alpha was still working on the assignment that was due at the start of class. 

Rian was checking over his own answers as Mr. Skywalker walked in. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Ben swore under his breath. 

Skywalker set his coffee on the teacher’s desk. Some of the students still talked as the announcements came and went. The second bell rang and Skywalker spoke, “All right. That’s enough.” He didn’t shout or even raise his voice, but it cut through the room, and the talking petered out. “Where’s Jacen?” he said in our general direction.

“Rut,” Zatt answered.

Skywalker bent and made a note on the attendance sheet. “When did that start?” he asked matter-of-factually. 

“This morning.” 

Skywalker made another note before standing at the front of the class. “Unfortunately Mr. Porkins won’t be here today...” The scent that Rian had learned to associate with anticipation rose in the classroom. “...so he won’t be able to collect your assignments until tomorrow.”

A hushed chorus of “Yessss,” and “ _Phew,”_ swirled through the class. Rian just looked down at his own assignment. He leaned to the side so he could quietly slide it in his backpack. 

“Yeah okay, settle down,” Skywalker continued. “Do any of you know what Mr. Porkins was planning to teach you next?” The room quickly went silent (even though every student - Rian included - knew exactly what they’d be doing next). Skywalker wasn’t phased. “Perfect, then we can do something else.” And he turned and started erasing the board as a collective groan rose from the class. 

“Or you could let us work on our assignments,” Ben chimed from the back. 

Skywalker turned back a moment. “But Ben, I thought you already finished your assignment,” he said in an innocently sarcastic tone; it got a few laughs from the other side of the room. From Ben it drew silence; Rian could smell a shift in Ben’s scent. He wasn’t sure _exactly_ what emotion the change was from - it would be helpful if he could turn to see Ben’s expression - but it clearly wasn’t a positive emotion. Somewhere between rage and embarrassment he supposed; he tried to catalogue it away in his memory.

Skywalker finished cleaning the board and turned back to the class. “How’s this? You don’t need to take any notes, this won’t be on your exams, and if we get through this maybe we can all leave early.” He grabbed a piece of chalk started writing, which of course meant that the students started whispering about what they would do with their extra free time.

Rian watched as Skywalker’s list appear.

_Julius Caesαr, Alexαnder the Great, Genghis Khαn, ….._

As the list continued Rian recognized names from several defunct European monarchies. Skywalker finished and turned back to the room. “Great leaders. Powerful men. Powerful alphas.” At that, the last of the talking students fell silent. “Heads of royal houses that controlled much of the world throughout history. Some of the recent ones…” Skywalker ran a lines through several of the later entries. “...were displaced or overthrown in the years following World War II. But Canada still has a monarch, a British monarch. Why? How did the monarchy survive?” He waited a long time, but when no one volunteered he called out a name seemingly at random. “Petro?” 

The alpha beside Rian sat up straighter. “Ah, because we have a queen now?” The very obvious answer drew a couple of laughs.

“Good start. But King George before her was an alpha. What happened? How did power change hands?” Luke let his gaze fall slowly across the room but no one would look at him. 

Rian felt a light touch on his shoulder. He reached up smoothly to grab the folded piece of paper there, reading it quickly. _If you know the answer you better say it_. Ben would do pretty much anything to not be called on by his uncle, even if it meant throwing someone else in the spotlight.

Rian put up his hand, and the movement drew Skywalker’s eye. “Rian.”

Rian cleared his throat. “King George the fifth was an alpha. But King George the sixth wasn’t.”

“Very good.” Skywalker started erasing space on the board. “But the crown was supposed to go to the first alpha born to the family, and sons of the house of Windsor often presented as alphas, so what happened?” He rewrote _King George V_ at the top of the board.

Rian sat up a little straighter and continued. “George the fifth had an alpha heir, Edward…” Skywalker wrote _Edwαrd_ on the board and drew a line back up to _King George V_. “...but Edward met and fell in love with an American omega-female, named Wallis, who had previously been claimed and her alpha was still alive.” This drew a hush of ‘ _oooo_ ’s from the class. “Actually she had been claimed twice and they were _both_ still alive.” The ‘ _oooo_ ’s turned to shock and disbelief. “She and Edward wanted to be together, but any union between them was seen as improper, and as king Edward would have to take a _proper_ mate. So in order to be with her, Edward passed the crown to his beta brother, Albert, who took the name King George the sixth.” Skywalker added _Albert_ to the family tree. “And then George the sixth had no male heirs, so his daughter, Elizabeth, was crowned queen and has been ever since. So to answer your question, the monarchy survived because it didn’t have an alpha heading it at the time when alphas were being removed from power.”

Skywalker finished drawing the family tree with _Queen Elizabeth II_ , and turned back to the class. “Thank you, Rian.”

One of the other kids put up his hand and Skywalker pointed at him. “Is Charles actually an alpha?” Tabloids would occasionally run scandal stories to this effect, endlessly going on about the size of his ears. 

Skywalker shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know, I’ve never met him.” A few students huffed a laugh.

Another hand went up. “How did the omega break the mating bond? Was there something wrong with her?” The room hummed with curiosity.

Skywalker looked serious all of a sudden. “Why would you say that?”

“She had two claiming marks and she was still looking for another alpha.”

“So? Do you think a claiming bite is some magical spell that takes away an omega’s choice of who she wants to be with? She changed her mind. She wasn’t the first _or_ last omega to dispute a bite. It’s rare but it happens.”

A different student chimed in. “But why would she do that?”

“Well I don’t know about _her_ , but let’s talk about omega’s in general. Why reject a claim? Some might do it because they didn’t want the bite in the first place; their partner just bit them without consent - that’s very not cool no matter what your hormones are telling you, by the way. They decided that that’s not what they wanted and so they leave. The other case is when they’re bitten willingly, but over time they don’t feel like the relationship is any good for them, so they leave. 

And now another student. “But isn’t the bite supposed to … _do_ something… make them closer or loyal or something?”

Skywalker shook his head. “It might be written that way in fairy tales but no one has ever proven that that’s true. You can probably find a/o couple that swear up and down that it’s true, but it’s not something you can _measure_.”

“But…”

“Look… let’s make this simple. Some omegas don’t always stay with their mates, that’s just the way it is. So if an alpha is lucky enough to find one, maybe they need to think about what they need to do to deserve that bond, rather than assuming the bite will do all the work.”

The class fell silent and after it was clear there were no more questions, Skywalker checked his watch. “Well... I think that might be enough for one day…” The class listened to him with bated breath. “Of course your assignments will be due tomorrow at the start of class…” Hands started to drift towards backpacks. “Okay, you can go.”

A handful of students bolted to the door, Ben included, with most of the rest right on their heels. At the other end of things, Rian was the last to stand and grab his backpack.

****

* * *

Rian leans against the counter, watching her. He’s the only one she has plans to meet - currently - she had said so. But what the hell does he have to offer her (other than an over zealous sex drive)?

As if she senses him watching her, she turns. “Are you going to come join me?”

He shakes himself out of it. “Yeah. Umm…” Dessert. For the moment he has dessert to offer her. “...my, uh, my mom made cookies; do you want one?”

One of her eyebrows quirks up in an expression he can’t decipher. “Sure,” she says slowly before turning back to her video.

He turns and grabs a tin from one of the open shelves above the counter. His hands shake as he puts two round, tan cookies on a plate. _Gods, get a grip, Casterman_ , he tells himself, but his hands are no better when he puts the lid back on the tin. He closes his eyes. _Breathe_ , and suddenly he’s back in meditation class at the school, Skywalker giving them instruction. His breath leaves his body through pursed lips. Better. His hands are steady as he grabs the plate. 

Kaydel is right where he left her, still watching his laptop. Now he just has to walk over and sit with her; give her _whatever-she-was-thinking-of_ and finish their _almost-blind-date._

And then he’s going to tell her.

And then she’d leave for the day and might not come back for a second. His heart sinks at the thought but... he still had to do it.

She smiles up at him as he takes the seat next to her. “Shortbread?” she asks as she takes one of the cookies.

“Kind of, except my mom makes them with corn flour.” 

She laughs at that. He can’t help but watch her lips as she bites into it. A tiny crumb falls from the corner of her mouth and lands somewhere on the couch between them. “Mmm. They’re really good.” 

He sets the plate down and takes the other for himself, nervously biting it in half. He chews automatically, and forces himself to watch the video; the host is drawing ‘kissing’ circles now. Rian swallows. Kaydel methodically devours her cookie; Rian has already forgotten about the rest of his. He tries to keep his eyes on the screen, but they dart to her fingers as she licks them clean. 

And her scent… it’s stronger with no breeze to push it away. With each breath it’s like it’s settling deeper into his bones. And suddenly he notices a shift - _hunger_ \- and he catches _her_ eyes darting away from his hand. 

_Oh_... It seems she really _does_ like his mom’s cookies. An idea flits across his mind. 

_Be cool, Casterman._

Slowly he brings his cookie towards his mouth and freezes when Kaydel turns her head to follow it. Her eyes flick to his but he’s already watching hers. Caught. He could call her on it, but she hadn’t called him out earlier when she could have. Instead he just extends the cookie to her. She takes it, innocently and without comment, and returns to watching the video. Rian can’t help but watch her out of the corner of his eye. She doesn’t hesitate as she bites the part where his mouth had been. As she eats her scent shifts back, and as she pops the last of the cookie into her mouth she settles herself back against the couch cushion. 

He glances down and spots the crumb that had fallen earlier; he grabs it between his fingers and devours it. 

He forces his eyes back to the screen. They sit in silence, and Rian tries to figure out how the host got the formula he’s writing. The video starts to wrap up and Kaydel slides forward to pick another from his bookmarks. She chooses the one about paper folding and fractal patterns; it was one of his favourites. She slides back on the seat and Rian suddenly realizes that he can feel the heat from her leg radiating onto his thigh. She’s sitting closer than before. Rian spends the next seven minutes trying to decide if she should move his hand to the back of the couch behind her or leave it where it is on his thigh. 

At the end of the video she again moves forward pick a new one before sitting back. This time her thigh touches his, and all the muscles in the side of his leg hum with anticipation, the sensation zinging straight to his groin. At three and a quarter minutes in, she curls up her feet on the far side of her and leans her head against his shoulder. He’s not really watching the video anymore.

When it ends she moves forwards and quickly picks another video from the same channel. As she sits Rian notices that the autoplay feature has been switched on. She leans against his arm again and this time pulls his hand into hers. After two minutes of the host explaining squared squares she asks, “Do you want to lie down?”

He hadn’t heard that since the first time (the last time) that he had a girl over to watch a movie in his parents’ basement. They were sitting on the same couch in fact. He clears his throat. “Yeah, sure.” He knows he still has to tell her about his rut, but for now he’ll give her the date she’s looking for. He’ll tell her at the end and then she can decide. If one date was all he got he didn’t want to cut it short.

Kaydel moves the laptop to the far end of the coffee table and lies down to watch it, taking up the front half of the couch cushions. 

The host says something about Kirchhoff laws - which ordinarily would interest Rian - but all he can focus on is her. Rian crawls up the back half of the cushions. Halfway there, a stab of pain jabs him in the ribs when he places his weight the wrong way, but he grits his teeth and is able to lie down without Kaydel noticing. He lays with his head high on the pillow so that he can see over Kaydel’s. 

And then he breathes. 

His nose is just an inch from the back of her head, their bodies making a tiny space for her scent to collect in, and when he breathes he’s suddenly not in the room any more. He’s in that space where only him and her exist, and all he wants to do is reach out and touch her. Suddenly, as if responding to his thoughts, she’s shifting, shifting her body back towards him. First the back of her head touches against his lips, and then her upper back against his chest, and then she shifts her hips back to press against his-

He holds himself perfectly still. Eyes shut. Embarrassed. _Fuck._

She must have felt it because she pauses, and now she’s moving away from him again, shifting on the couch cushion and-

“Hey,” she says softly. 

He opens his eyes and finds her looking back at him. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s your scent. But that’s not an excuse, I-.” _How did he not predict this?_ “I just-”

“Hey,” she says again, with a touch more force this time. And then she turns her body to face him. She raises her hand and lightly traces the side of his face, sending shivers down his neck. Her eyes follow the path of her fingers, and when they reach his chin they start to wander his lips before coming back up to his own eyes. “Hey,” she says a third time, her voice soft and low.

“Hey,” is all he can manage. It’s like he’s being pulled towards her, like a magnet too close to its mate; he feels powerless to escape her. Their foreheads touch and his skin hums with electricity. A tiny voice reminds him that he still needs to tell her something, but all his brain can focus on is where she touched him and where she’s still touching him. “Kaydel…” he tries.

“Shhh. Later.” She lays a finger over his lips. 

And with that even his rational side rolls over in surrender. “Okay,” he says breathily.

Looking him in the eye, Kaydel leans in and kisses him; she tastes sweet like honey and his lips hum where hers press into him. At first he doesn’t move, frozen, afraid to shatter the moment. She kisses him back and forth across his lips and starts to work them open, teasing him with the tip of her tongue, and with each kiss he thaws a little. She places his hand on her side and presses her body against him. He’s still hard of course, but she presses against him anyway, making him groan into her mouth. 

His hand gives her a gentle squeeze and she, “mmmm”’s lightly in approval. Her hands have found his chest and are slowly wandering his pecs. She starts running them lower down his abs and finds the cuff of his shirt as he starts to try to kiss her back a little. She runs her hand under her shirt, tracing the definition of his stomach. “Mm, off. I want this off,” she murmurs into his mouth.

With his free hand he starts undoing buttons, but the shirt - _cough_ , thanks mom - is new and the button holes are stiff, and without a second hand for leverage he can’t get them undone. “I -” _am so tempted to rip this thing off_ , he finishes in his mind. “Just give me a sec.” Mentally it’s an effort to separate himself from her, to fight against that pull, but she wanted his shirt off and _it’s coming off gods damn it._ He _needs_ it off so he can go back to being next to her. He pushes himself up on his knees, sitting back on his heels, and his hands start to work the buttons open as he looks down at her. 

Kaydel for her part, adjusts herself on the couch, laying on her back, watching him as he undoes each button. Her eyes hungrily scavenge the gap between the two sides of his shirt as he works his way down, the corners of her mouth turned upwards in approval. It’s just as he gets the last button undone that she seems to focus on a spot on his torso. Rian is eager to rejoin her as he pulls back the shirt to doff it. 

And then he watches as her eyes go wide with shock and she pulls up her legs in a cringe. “ _What the hell?!_ ” 

Rian’s skin runs cold as adrenaline cuts through his pheromone powered haze. He’s such an idiot. “I-” He closes his eyes a moment so he can’t see her staring at the black and green and purple that decorates his flank. _Gods you are such a moron, Casterman._ “I’m sorry, it- I should have told you. It happened at Redguard. It’s fine.”

She’s sitting up at the edge of the couch now, her eyes flitting from bruise to bruise to his face and back. “What the _fuck_ happened?” 

“I-” He closes his eyes again to take a deep breath, trying to think of how to explain this. He turns so his legs can fall to the floor; the maneuver might have been more complicated, but his erection has waned in sympathy to the situation. Elbows on his knees he steeples his hands around his nose. There’s no way around this. It’s not lost on him how he’s about to tell her the one thing he didn’t want to, while he still hasn’t told her the thing he needs to. He can sense her stillness on the couch next to him. “The guards were never going to let me _leave_. Just trying to follow the rules was getting me nowhere. So I baited one of the guards into attacking me in front of a security camera she thought was off when it was really on. I basically let her kick the shit out of me, so that the footage would look as damning as possible.” He had fallen on his sword, _played_ the victim; exactly what alphas _don’t_ do. “I just couldn’t stay there… not with...” With what, Rian? Not with what? But he can’t say it; he can’t say it and not be desperate. “Kaydel, if this isn’t what you’re looking for…” He’s trying to find the words to finish, but his then there’s another shift in the room. It’s _hunger_ but also... _something else_. He turns, confused. 

Kaydel is sitting at the edge of the couch, looking at him, but her eyes are deeper than before, like dark pools. They take in the bruises on his flank and she licks her lips. Slowly she shifts herself towards him, eyes locked on his side like she’s stalking prey. Her knee bumps his, forcing his elbows to retreat. He sits upright, and freezes again, unsure of what he should be doing. She starts to lean towards him and he flinches back, just half an inch. She pauses and looks up at him. He can see now that her irises are dilated, and her lips are parted slightly. He falls into her gaze, and watches helplessly as she slowly starts to move towards his torso again. She breaks her gaze just as he feels her breath on his skin. She finds what she wants: a solitary purple mark on the outer rim of the bruises clustered on his flank. Gently she places her lips gently over it, leaving a tiny kiss on his skin. Rian knows it’s really there because he can feel his skin cooling as she pulls away.

She straightens a bit so she can look at him again. Her eyes pin Rian to his seat. Caught, that’s what he is. She places one hand on the center of his chest and pushes, forcing him to lean against the back of the couch. His body gives her no resistance. She places her hands on his shoulders, and - eyes locked to his - slowly lifts herself to straddle his lap, sitting on the mid-point of his thighs. Rian can hardly breathe. 

She drops her gaze to his torso again and bends forward to lightly press her lips to another bruise, and this time as her lips leave his skin they are already seeking out another target. She peppers his side with a half dozen or so kisses. She finds a particularly large one and this time, instead of lifting her lips she slides them across his skin to cover the whole of it. Then she’s on to the next group. It’s a larger cluster and she overlaps her kisses. His skin feels like it’s buzzing, glowing, where she touches him. 

The kisses start quite chaste, but soon become firmer and wetter, and by the time she’s half way down his flank he can feel her tongue darting out, giving a little lick to each spot as she works her way down his flank. When she gets to the lowest of his injuries she starts to move back up, again her kisses firmer and wetter still. She holds his shoulders for support. And now to each spot she gives a teasing suckle and Rian thinks he’s going to lose his mind. He’s surrounded by the new change in her scent and he’s practically hyperventilating to get more of it. His erection has returned, quite obviously tenting his shorts now that he has no shirt in the way to hide it.

Kaydel slows as she nears the top of his injuries. She looks up to him with just her eyes again and Rian sits mesmerized. She moves her mouth across his chest, leaving little kisses as she goes. Rian watches as she - still looking up to gauge his reaction - places her mouth over his nipple and sucks. His body thrums with it and his dick twitches, and it’s not until she stops does he realize that his eyes are closed. 

She works her way up and starts placing kisses on his collar bones, and then moves to his neck. She starts on the side with his tattoo, but quickly switches to the other. With every wet, luscious kiss she gives his skin a gentle suck. 

Her hands wander his shoulders and his chest, teasing at his nipples. She moves her torso closer to his, until her belly brushes against his erection, and the next moment she’s pressing against it. He can feel his pulse shooting through it, and she hums in approval. 

She grabs his hands and places them on her hips before she continues to wander his body. He bends down to try to offer his mouth to her, but she nudges his jaw up and away, back where she wants it.

She adjusts herself higher on him, and then her mouth finds his gland on his neck and he groans as she suckles there. Now she’s grinding her pelvis against him, moving herself up and down as she sucks and releases his gland. One of her hands wanders down his stomach, to top of his shorts, and suddenly she’s gripping the head of his dick through them. It’s all his brain can process. She rubs and squeezes and gives him a little twist, and he’s in that space again where she is everything. 

He can feel a pressure building in him. “Kaydel…” His voice is wrecked. “You’re going to make me come.” It’s only fair to warn her.

She slows. Her lips detach and she speaks into his neck by his ear, voice low and husky. “Do you want me to?”

Did he _want_ her to? He would _beg_ her to. He would follow her to the end of the earth and get on his knees to beg her. Rian had never known that anything could feel like this; everything else paled in comparison. He hopes she doesn’t make him beg because he’s not sure if he’d survive this being drawn out. His voice is broken when he speaks. “Yes.”

She doesn’t make him beg. She re-doubles her efforts, sucking on his neck and massaging his dick with her hand and her hips. He feels that pressure start to build again, but less than before; their minor interruption has cost them momentum. He’s stuck, right on the edge. His boxers are starting to chafe him, and he wishes she would suck harder on his neck. A whine escapes him. Kaydel pulls her mouth away and brings her lips to touch his ear. “Rian…” Her breathy whisper floods his mind. “...come for me.” And then she pulling an even wider swath of his neck into her mouth and she sucks and he transcends that space that contains only the two of them. The pressure explodes out of him in a hot gush, followed by another and another. She holds him tight as he comes, and when he’s through she slowly lets her lips slip from his neck, before she settles down against his torso, folding herself around him. 

They’re both breathing heavy, but, with every breath, both more slowly. Slowly he moves one hand from her hip to her back, and when she nuzzles her face deeper against him he moves his other to match. He could hold her like this for hours. 

Rian’s not sure how long it takes for him to come down, for reality to sink back in. He realizes slowly that he has no idea what he’s supposed to think or say or do. But just holding her _feels_ so right. It dawns on him that she’d made him come in his shorts like he was in highschool, but he doesn’t really care, and he knows he’d let her do it again if she wanted to. And then it occurs to him and he came, and she hadn’t. He quietly clears his throat. “Kaydel… do you want…” He stumbles, not really knowing what she might like or want. 

She surprises him with a tiny kiss on his lips. “Shh. You should go shower.” She lifts herself off his lap and lets herself down onto the cushion next to him. 

“I-” He’s about to protest, when he realizes how cool and clammy his crotch feels now that she’s not sitting on it. 

She nudges his shoulder. “I’ll wait for you,” she says softly.

His eyes stare blankly at the wall in front of him for a moment. He doesn’t want to leave her, but then he feels a line of jizz start to curve around his crotch. _Stop dicking around Casterman._ “Okay, just give me a minute.” He pushes himself up and grabs new clothes from his dresser before ducking into the bathroom. 

He can’t help but look back as he reaches the door. She’s watching him, just her eyes visible over the back of the couch. “I’ll be right back.” He’s not really sure if he’s promising her or himself.

She lifts herself up so he can see her face. “I’m not going anywhere.” She’s wears a knowing smile and he wishes he knew what she did.

He nods and closes the door, though he can’t bring himself to set the lock.

****

* * *

It’s barely three minutes later and Rian’s standing in his small efficient shower, water coursing over his head and back. His washed out boxers and shorts hang on the taps next to him; at some other time he may have laughed at how his job at the prison helped to prepare him for this real-world task, but at the moment all he can think about is the person sitting in the next room.

He’s glad she told him to shower. His rational self had latched on to that to force him under the spray, washing away most of her scent. He’s finding it easier to think again. 

But even with her scent missing - or perhaps because of it - he feels the urge to get back to her. He towels off quickly and dresses in clean shorts and a t-shirt; no buttons this time. He glances at himself in the mirror to fix his hair, and the sight of himself gives him pause. 

He may have spent the day aiming for ‘ _not desperate’_ \- maybe the day even started out that way - but when he looks himself in the eye he knows that deep down ‘ _not desperate’_ no longer applies. And perhaps it’s been there longer than just today, something formed in the throws of his rut.

Which only reminds him of how he hasn’t told her about it yet. And how he needs to. Now. Before anything else happens. 

He grabs the door handle and takes a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My libido:** omgomgomgomgomg. *breathes into paper bag*  
>  **Me:** So now that that scene is finally out of your system (after coming up with it _months_ ago) can you _please_ start thinking of what they are going to do next?  
>  **My libido:** Huh.. you want wha..?  
>  **Me:** Help me come up with more sexy sexy.  
>  **My libido:** Wha?  
>  **Me:** You are so useless.  
>  **My libido:** Wha?
> 
> * * *
> 
> The classroom flashback scene was originally going to be just a random one-off chapter, but I realized it gave me a lot of things I needed. I have to thank the show The Crown for all of the British history stuff.
> 
> And I swear we are going to meet Rian's parents more formally one day (roughly 2-3 chapters from now). FYI they aren't SW characters.
> 
> And yes, all those videos are real:  
> \- [Primitive Technology, Bow and Arrow](https://youtu.be/SLoukoBs8TE?t=112) \- I love this channel. Kaydel may not be watching this exact video, but you get the idea.  
> \- [Numberphile, Epic Circles](https://youtu.be/sG_6nlMZ8f4) \- it's actually kind of a long video, probably not my favourite, but I couldn't pass up the 'kissing' circles.  
> \- [Numberphile, Dragon Curve](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCyC-K_PnRY) \- I think this is one of the coolest things ever. If I had to get a tattoo I would choose this.  
> \- [Numberphile, Squared Squares](https://youtu.be/NoRjwZomUK0) \- Another of my favourite math videos.
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Addendum (Aug 5, 2019):** Guys the next update will be a while because I have another thing I'm putting together that might take 2-4 weeks, and then this next chap could take another 2-4 weeks (gods I hope it's not 4 weeks).  
> Should definitely have something by the end of September.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> Comments encouraged, including con-crit. Anonymous comments have been enabled.  
> I have no beta*, so please help me see where it's not working.  
> *though I should say that Isha has been helping me find my way throughout.
> 
> You can also ask me things on my:  
> \- Tumblr = [darksideofme-reylo](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/)  
> \- Twitter = [@InaraLock](https://twitter.com/InaraLock)


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